#whether its reciprocated or not she wants love she wants it she wANTS IT

[hollowed-theory-hall]

How does the protection magic that Lily's sacrifice placed on Harry work? On that note- how do the blood wards placed on the Dursley household operate?

Like- does the latter act as a notice me not/ fidelius of its own? Protecting Harry's location from other magicals? (It would have been easy for another Longbottom tragedy to occur after all) from what I remember the blood wards have no affect on the protection cast by Lily's sacrifice, and instead sort of extend the effect to the household???

Also on the topic of the protection- we saw the end Quirrel met. And... I just wondered- why didn't this sort of reaction extend to all the people - the Dursleys included- who laid their hands + spells on Harry with the intent to harm? By all means the blood wards should have fallen the moment The Dursleys tried to physically harm Harry. Can't see a protection powered by Lily's intent, extending to people who mean her son harm.

Unless of course the magic and the wards are targetted at Riddle specifically. Which brings the question- why didn't it set on fire/ harm anything considering even the traces of Riddle's presence/ influence. Eg. The people with the death Eater brands, the horcruxes, the soul shard inside Harry himself??

Ugh. Just so many questions.

Ps. Could the blood wards have been transferred/ worked in a residence comprising of the people Harry considered as his family and who reciprocated this sentiment? (based on the importance of intent to keep the spell going)

Wow, @ana-lyz, just like with the veil and death asks, I just started drafting a post about Lily's blood protections and what Dumbledore says about them. So...

Lily's Love Protection and Dumbledore's Blood Wards

Alright, strap in...

Okay, so let's start by seeing what we're told about the blood protections and whether we can gather something cohesive that makes magical sense out of it.

We have Voldemort's statement on this piece of magic:

“...I wanted Harry Potter’s blood. I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago . . . for the lingering protection his mother once gave him would then reside in my veins too. . . . “But how to get at Harry Potter? For he has been better protected than I think even he knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange the boy’s future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the boy’s protection as long as he is in his relations’ care. Not even I can touch him there. . . .

(GoF, 657)

Notice there is the lingering protection from Lily's magic and the ancient magic Dumbledore invoked. These are, I believe separate spells.

Dumbledore's statements:

“But why couldn’t Quirrell touch me?” “Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn’t realize that love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign…to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good.”

(PS, 215)

“But I knew too where Voldemort was weak. And so I made my decision. You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated — to his cost. I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died to save you. She gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother’s blood. I delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative.” “She doesn’t love me,” said Harry at once. “She doesn’t give a damn —” “But she took you,” Dumbledore cut across him. “She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother’s sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you.” “I still don’t —” “While you can still call home the place where your mother’s blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort. He shed her blood, but it lives on in you and her sister. Her blood became your refuge. You need return there only once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, there he cannot hurt you. Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done in the letter I left, with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may well have kept you alive for the past fifteen years.”

(OotP, 835-836)

Here again, Dumbledore mentions the ancient magic he made the decision to protect Harry with as a separate thing from the lingering protection from Lily.

And (as per this post) the Dumbledore Harry hallucinates statement:

“He took my blood.” said Harry. “Precisely!” said Dumbledore. “He took your blood and rebuilt his living body with it! Your blood in his veins, Harry, Lily’s protection inside both of you! He tethered you to life while he lives!”

(DH, 598)

And then we have what happened to Quirrell:

Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Harry, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell’s face — “AAAARGH!” Quirrell rolled off him, his face blistering, too, and then Harry knew: Quirrell couldn’t touch his bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain — his only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him from doing a curse. Harry jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, and hung on as tight as he could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Harry off — the pain in Harry’s head was building — he couldn’t see — he could only hear Quirrell’s terrible shrieks and Voldemort’s yells of, “KILL HIM! KILL HIM!”

(PS, 212)

What we know from this

Well, from the above quotes we can divide the magical protections on Harry into 2 different spells as I mentioned above:

Lily's sacrificial love protection - the intention magic Lily cast by protecting her son. This is the magic that blocked the Killing Curse and killed Quirrell.

Dumbledore's blood ward - this is the spell Dumbledore cast that (supposedly) protects Harry in his relatives' home. Voldemort says Dumbledore invoked this magic, and Dumbledore also mentions it's a ward he left that built upon Lily's protection, but it's not a spell Lily left.

So, what can Lil'y Sacrificial Love Protection do:

Makes the Killing Curse not kill Harry.

Returns the Killing Curse back to the sender.

Continues to hurt that initial "sender" whenever he tries to kill Harry.

What about Dumbledore's Blood Wards what do they do:

Nothing.

Dumbledore and Voldemort say this magic exists but it never does anything. We never see it active, it never protects Harry from anyone, neither his relatives nor Death Eaters. So, we don't know what it's supposed to be doing since it doesn't do anything in the books.

Voldemort says it won't allow him to touch Harry in his relatives' house.

How I think these spells actually work

I'll start with Dumbledore's Blood Wards:

I simply don't think this ward actually exists.

Dumbledore isn't very consistent with how this protection works. He says Harry needs to return for a bit to live with Petunia for the magic to work, but if that's all the requirement, why long weeks? Couldn't he return for a shorter time? And each year he spends a different amount of time at Private Drive? Couldn't he always be sent back just for the minimal required time? At first, the ward was about love but then it isn't, he says this: "While you can still call home the place where your mother’s blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort."

Harry didn't think of Private Drive as a home:

Harry could hardly believe it when he realized that he’d already been at Hogwarts two months. The castle felt more like home than Privet Drive ever had.

(PS, 123)

“I believe he had several reasons, though he confided none of them to Professor Dippet,” said Dumbledore. “Firstly, and very importantly, Voldemort was, I believe, more attached to this school than he has ever been to a person. Hogwarts was where he had been happiest; the first and only place he had felt at home.” Harry felt slightly uncomfortable at these words, for this was exactly how he felt about Hogwarts too.

(HBP, 431)

Harry never considered Private Drive and the Dursleys his home. Hogwarts was his first home.

If there is no love and it isn't a home, even if Dumbledore did cast a blood ward based on Petunia and Lily's sacrifice it won't actually be active. But personally, I don't think this ward actually exists.

Dumbledore needs a reason to keep Harry with his relatives.

Dumbledore needs Harry malleable, low on self-esteem, and lacking in a support network. Because he knew since October 1981 (but probably before) that he'd likely need Harry to die. He suspected Harry was a Horcrux from practically day 1:

Under a tuft of jetblack hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning. “Is that where —?” whispered Professor McGonagall. “Yes,” said Dumbledore. “He’ll have that scar forever.” “Couldn’t you do something about it, Dumbledore?” “Even if I could, I wouldn’t. Scars can come in handy...

(PS, 13-14)

And being raised by the Dursleys ensured that when the time came, when Dumbledore needed Harry to die to destroy Voldemort, Harry would be willing. Because Harry would not put much worth in his own life. Because of that, I think it's not outside the realm of possibility Dumbledore would lie about this ward to have an excuse to keep sending Harry to the Dursleys.

(Sure, Dumbledore would've preferred not to kill Harry if it could be avoided, but he had been preparing for the situation since October 1981)

It's not like he did anything to better their treatment of Harry until book 6, when he needed Harry to start trusting him more...

And like I mentioned above, even if the ward was there, it would not be active because Private Drive was never a home for Harry. And after year 4, when Voldemort took his blood, any protection from any blood-related magic would be moot. Because Voldemort would not be counted as a threat by the ward.

So Dumbledore sending Harry back to the Dursleys after he knew the wards he left (if they were there at all) were gone, proves to me Harry's placement at the Dursleys was never about the wards to begin with. Because if the blood wards are gone, literally anywhere else around wizards who could protect Harry would be safer than at the Dursleys, even when thinking of Death Eaters and Voldemort as the only threat. If they came to find Harry at Private Drive, nothing would've stopped them (except Harry himself).

I could guess wards like this, if they actually were active, would have been an extension of Lily's protection and stopped Voldemrot from being able to enter the Dursleys' residence. From what's said, it seems this ward seems to target Voldemrot specifically, and no one else. But, as I mentioned, I don't think it's really there.

Lil'y Sacrificial Love Protection:

I mentioned in the past how intention and emotion mean a lot for magic in the HP universe. Lily, a witch who we are told repeatedly was powerful, intelligent, and talented, could very well cast a powerful protection out of her love and intention to protect her son. That is 100% possible with what we see magic is capable of and how magic seems to work.

That being said, the fact this never happened before suggests to me Lily did something different than just having a very strong wish for her son to survive. Dumbledore says it's because she had a choice, and in a way it is, but not because Voldemort gave her the option not to die, but because she chose to die instead of Harry.

I'll try to explain it, bear with me.

“Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!” “Stand aside, you silly girl. . . stand aside now.” “Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—” “This is my last warning—” “Not Harry! Please . . . have mercy. . . have mercy. . . . Not Harry! Not Harry! Please—I’ll do anything—” “Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!”

(DH, 297)

This is the "spell" Lily casts — the incantation. This is her wish moments before her death: "Not Harry, kill me instead," that's what she says, that's her promise, that's her wish, that's the magic.

Lily's protection only works on Voldemort because her spell essentially made a bargain with Voldemort (that he didn't agree to). that he'd kill her instead of Harry. Once he killed Lily, he couldn't kill Harry because that was the protection she left him, and Voldemort won't be able to kill him because she died in his stead.

That's why we don't see the same thing happen after James dies to buy Lily and Harry time, why when others die to protect someone they aren't protected from the killing curse. What Lily did is a combination of a few extraordinary circumstances coming together:

She's an incredibly powerful witch (shown by her childhood magic that was very controlled and advanced (not unlike Tom Riddle) and Slughorn's boasting)

She loved Harry dearly. Loved him enough to power an accidental spell.

Chose and intended to die instead of her son. She had intent when making her plea, intent required for any spell.

So what essentially happened is that Lily created a situation where Voldemort physically can't kill Harry because Lily died in his stead. If, for example, Quirrell touched Harry without intending to kill him (like he did when they shook hands in Diagon Alley or when he pulled Harry to stand in front of the mirror) the protection won't activate. All it does is stop Voldemort from killing Harry because he already killed Lily in Harry's stead.

So, Voldemort, as I mentioned in the past, wants to kill Harry, this is his only ambition in the 2nd war. So he takes Harry's blood into himself so the protection won't work anymore. And we see it doesn't in the woods when Voldemort casts the killing curse and it doesn't rebound back on him (which would've happened otherwise).

This love protection from Lily doesn't require anything to stay active. It was cast because Voldemort killed her and Harry doesn't need to do anything to keep it active. Staying with the Dursleys wasn't for the sake of Lily's spell but for Dumbledore's ward.

As for Lily's spell not protecting Hary from anything else, like I mentioned, the bargain was that Voldemort would kill her instead of Harry, it would only protect Harry from being killed by Voldemort. If Voldemort just asked a random Death Eater to kill Harry it still wouldn't have worked, but that won't be because of Lily's love magic, but because of Harry pretty much always being the Master of Death.

Basically, Voldemort was doomed because he had no chance of killing Harry. Ever.

But what about when Harry died in book 7 and said he cast the same sacrificial love?

Well, I don't think Harry cast the same sacrificial love. His feelings and intentions were completely different. In his case, I think he just took the mastership of the Elder Wand so it wasn't performing as well for Voldemort afterward.

Conclusions

There are actually two different and distinct spells referred to by the characters when it comes to the protections Lily left for Harry.

The first is Lily's Sacrificial Love Spell which worked like a bargain. She pleaded with Voldemort to kill her instead of Harry and after he killed her, he could no longer kill Harry because he was protected.

Voldemort taking Harry's blood does indeed circumvent this spell and allows him to kill Harry in the woods (if temporarily).

The second is the Blood Ward Dumbledore talks about that is supposedly placed on the Dursleys' home. This spell was invoked by Dumbledore and is not part of Lily's spell.

It's supposed to build on and strengthen Lily's protection from what's implied.

this second spell would've stopped its activity the moment Harry stopped considering number 4, Private Drive his home (which happened quite young, as he doesn't remember ever considering it a home)

Personally, I don't think this blood ward ever existed, but even if it did, it was moot from the get-go and never done anything.

Voldemort taking Harry's blood in year 4, circumvented this ward too.

Basically, Dumbledore kept Harry at the Durselys less because of the wards and more because it suited him to ensure Harry would become the martyr he needed him to be (something I should write a full post about eventually).

#harry potter #hp #asks #ana-lyz #harry james potter #lily potter #harry potter meta #hp meta #hollowedtheory #albus dumbledore #lily evans

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

My toxic trait is that I think about this at least once a day. Sometimes twice if I want to hurt my feelings.

#demlonzo #extemporize back chat #my toxic trait is also that i *legit* believe #that whatever universe it is - alonzo is in love with demeter #whether or not she reciprocates or its actually consumated on both ends depends on the replica blocking but i *firmly* believe #that this is a standard that has actually been interpreted by performers and i will die on this hill #which is why i don't get the he's not there for demeter angle tbh #like lenny daniel said that alonzo flirts around but demeter is the one he actually wanted - the one he truly loved - #and yes he played the standard alonzo blocking which officially paired them together #but i believe it straight up golden alonzo or not #maybe i'm just a sucker for the lady killer in love trope - maybe it's Maybelline #you don't have to agree with me but damn #remember how i said the reaching - the reaching and the touching and the *wanting* to touch - it's strong #berlin gave me a gift *twice* and for that i am grateful #in all three pixels

[moon-rivr]

Can you please do one where Y/N is spider woman, but she is a variant of Miguel’s wife that died. She was recruited by Parker B, and she met Miguel at HQ. He’s cold and very distant from her, but in reality he just wants to hold her and love her like his old wife. Y/N sneaks into Miguel’s room one day hoping to snoop around to find anything that could explain his past and his cold demeanor. But she either comes upon him walking videos of him and his old wife (a 100% doppelgänger of Y/N, both physically and characteristically), or she accidentally finds the footage when she’s snooping around and Miguel catches her. (And Y/N has a crush on him the entire time) 

glimpse of us

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: angst, death, mentions of pregnancy, miguel kinda being an ass? and brief mention of a blowjob (like one sentence brief 😭)

author’s note: should probably state that i was listening to frank ocean and jeff buckley’s ‘lover you should’ve come over’ while writing this so my bad if it’s too angsty LMFAO. anyways idk if this should be a 2 parter or if i should js leave it alone

word count: 6.2k

Grief. It was an emotion that Miguel was all too familiar with, whether it be losing civilians that pleaded for their life until the very end or simply just the grieving of a relationship. Grief sunk its claws deeply into his very being, the perspective that he had towards life completely tainted. He walked on eggshells to prevent himself from enduring any more losses, missing opportunities left and right out of fear. Every time he went through something traumatic, he assured himself that it'd be okay. That it was just a test of his character. And now, all that pain and suffering seemed worth it now that he was up there on the altar.

You were the embodiment of perfection, an angel sent from above to illuminate what was once the darkness in Miguel’s life. White lace intertwined into your wedding dress, the material falling well past your feet. The veil placed above your head flowed past your head, the crown fitting you all too well. You looked like you were meant for this moment, brought into this world to be his wife. Well, no. He was brought into this world to be completely and utterly devoted to you, thinking of himself as lucky that you reciprocated the feelings.

The sound of 'Wedding March' followed as you made your way up to the altar, everyone's attention solely focused on you. Yet, even with all the eyes peering into your direction, you could only manage to look up at Miguel. The image was imprinted in his mind the moment it happened, the rose petals on the floor surrounding you as you made your way up. The venue had been small, just enough to be able to fit both of your families and a couple of close friends. Despite of the venue size, Miguel had made sure to make every idea that you had a reality for the reception.

He refused to accept something other than what his pretty wife wanted, willing to bend over backwards just to fulfill your every whim. He didn't care about the amount of money that he had to spend, not when your presence mattered more than any possession he owned. He felt like he could spend this lifetime devoted solely to you and it still wouldn't be enough time. His only job throughout the wedding plan was swiping his debit card and approving the charges made to his account. He gave his opinion on a couple of the minute details such as the designs of the cups and the napkins, but overall, he left it up to you and the planner.

"Here, antes de que empieces a chillar," Gabriel whispered next to him in a teasing tone, handing him a handkerchief. Miguel took the cloth with a small shake of his head, putting it in his pocket. If anything, Gabriel should've kept the handkerchief for himself. Miguel felt all the saliva in his mouth dry up at the sight of you up close, seeing the gold necklace he'd bought for you adorning your neck upon further inspection. "You've got a little drool there," you whispered just for him to hear, a cheeky smile on your face as you pointed to the corner of his mouth. He indulged your teasing, swiping a finger where you'd pointed. "Hard not to drool when you look so enchanting."

(before you start crying)

"Thank you to everyone who's gathered here today for the gathering of this lovely couple," the priest started off, looking up from the book he was reading off of to the guests. He waited for the guests to settle down before continuing with what he had to say. The ceremony seemed to drag on as the priest continued to speak, all that Miguel wanted was to have the honor of being your husband. The crowd seemed to disappear while he looked at you underneath the fairy lights that you'd requested for the venue, his expression just so full of love as he admired you. In all the different ways that he'd seen you, this one had to be his favorite. The image of his future wife.

The sweet melody of your voice upon speaking your vows was soon drowned out as he looked down to see blood splattering around your stomach. The wedding continued as normal, everyone at the event sporting a smile on their faces. "Do you take Miguel O’Hara as your husband?" The priest asked, oblivious to the fact that you'd just collapsed on the podium. Matter of fact, everybody seemed oblivious. No one was rushing to call 911, too on the edge of their seats to wait for your response. If you were in pain, you didn't present it. Your eyes almost seemed to glisten as you looked over at Miguel, the words 'I do' escaping from your lips.

Cold sweat dribbled down his forehead as he woke up to the solitude of his bedroom, darkness enveloping him completely. His chest heaved as he tried to calm himself down, convince his brain that it was just a nightmare. His heart ached when he looked over at the spot next to him, finding it empty. He really needed a hug from you now. Needed to feel your fingers in his hair to ground back to earth. He wanted to let out a yell out of frustration, every dream and memory that he had of you now tainted with the memory of losing you. First date? You ended up on the floor with your stomach bleeding. Engagement party? Same result.

Ironically enough, the only thing he couldn't bring himself to dream of was the actual event of your death. That in itself would open up wounds that he wasn't ready to face, wounds that he wasn't sure he'd be able to go through for a second time. He ran a hand through his hair, the ends standing up like a soldier in command. The bed creaked underneath him as he stood up, his eyes rapidly blinking to try to get adjusted to the darkness. He stepped into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. It wasn't enough, it was almost like the scene was tattooed in his eyelids so he'd have to endure it as long as he lived.

The only thing that managed to soothe the pain that resided deep inside his soul was the physical pain that he willingly put himself through. The muscles in his legs ached as he moved up on the stair master, intensity set at the highest setting. His mornings usually consisted of this repetitive motion, getting about four hours of sleep before he woke up soaked in his own sweat just to be awake for the rest of the day. His body was over exerted from the amount of stress he was under, but he didn't care. He'd push himself beyond his limit if it meant it would distract him from the memory that you were no longer here to be his person.

"No, you're not listening to me, Miguel!" Your voice boomed throughout the apartment, overlapping his as he tried to argue back to you. You'd seen the scene too clearly and yet he still had the audacity to claim that they were just friends. As if friends looked at each other the way Dana D’Angelo looked at Miguel. She looked at him like she'd eat him alive regardless of the wedding band adorning his finger, her lip often caught in between her teeth as a mean to seduce him. "I'm telling you that I don't care about her advances, I only want you! Haven't I done enough to prove that to you?" He lowered his voice, holding your hands in between his own.

"Yet by not doing anything about her advances, you're making her think that it's okay!" While you didn't expect Miguel to cut off every woman from his life, you at least expected for him to shut down the ones who were so clearly interested in him. Miguel’s frustration seemed to be more evident now, his brows creasing together as he let go of your hands. "Te he dicho un millon de veces. I don't want Dana, I just want you. Please believe me when I say that," you could tell he was trying to make amends but that apology just wasn't cutting it. "Seriously, how hard is it just to cut that damn bitch off?! She cheated on you!"

(i've told you a million times)

"Maybe this whole marriage was a mistake if you can't even trust your husband," he uttered as he turned his back to you, your mouth agape at his words. He had to be saying them just to hurt you, right? He'd certainly done the job if that was his intent. You refrained from crying in front of him, never quite giving him that satisfaction in any arguments between the two of you. He'd never given you a reason to distrust him, but you couldn't say the same thing about Dana. You knew her issues regarding commitment, how easily she ignored the fact that someone was already accounted for.

"Maybe it was," you whispered quietly to yourself, unaware that he'd heard it even through the thin walls. It was only when you heard the staircase leading up to the apartment hallways that you allowed yourself to cry, assured by the fact that Miguel wasn't here listening to you. You looked over at the baby outfit you were planning on surprising him with, gripping it so tightly that your knuckles started to turn white. You were hoping on surprising him with the news of your pregnancy given how eager he was to have kids, only to have the evening end up in an argument.

The argument continued until the next day, both of you unable to put your pride aside and apologize. Well, mostly him. He was at his desk, glasses tipping at the edge of his nose as he read through the last report of his samples. His brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of the percentages in front of him, the culture showing an abnormal amount of growth for the amount of time it'd been exposed to the antidote. His train of thought was abruptly cut off when he heard his cell phone ringing in the pocket of his jeans, a small groan escaping from his lips before he reached for it.

Your name appeared on the caller ID, his gut telling him that this call was important. Despite that, he pressed the red button to shut the ringing up. His ego was still bruised from the words you'd uttered yesterday, even though he knew that you hadn't meant them. They were just words spoken out of anger. the same reason why he even thought of uttering those words to you. He pushed his glasses back to the bridge of his nose, raising his hips to put his phone back in his pocket when the shrill ring sounded again. He took it as a sign of you raising a white flag, deciding to be receptive towards the signal.

"Aló?" He asked as he picked up the phone, your heavy breathing coming through the other end. He stood up in a frenzy as he listened to the sounds of your breathing, starting to feel his blood turn cold. "Miguel! Thank goodness you picked up. I think there's a couple men following me. Can you please come and pick me up? I'm at fifth a-POP!" All the air from his lungs left as he heard a gunshot coming through, the unmistakable sound of a thud echoing in his ears. "Hurry up and get her purse, asshole!" He heard the yelling and scuffling of feet get closer to the receiver, your belongings being stripped away as he was forced to listen.

Miguel remained on the line, wanting some kind of indication that you were still alive. For now, he'd settle for listening to your ragged breathing coming through. He'd called for an ambulance before leaving the house, though he wasn't sure how serious it would be taken with the amount of homicides that happened throughout nueva york. "Oyé. Once you get out the hospital, we're going to Bali like you wanted us to. We're renewing our vows," he spoke into the phone, his voice threatening to crack as he willed himself to cling onto the last bit of hope.

The ambulance still wasn't there by the time he arrived, his knees buckling at the sight of the amount of blood on the sidewalk. He watched other people walk around you like you were inconveniencing them, anger brewing inside him at the sight. He knelt down by your side, watching the bullet wound piercing through your shirt onto your stomach. He removed his shirt without much thought, using it as a tourniquet to stop the bleeding. All he needed was more time. More time with you. More time to apologize to you.

All he wanted was to tell you was that he didn't mean it, wanted to let you know how much you meant to him and more. He didn't want you to die thinking that he hated you. The pain in his chest intensified at the thought, warm tears rolling down his cheeks onto your face. "I'm sorry," he tried to tell you in broken sentences, his voice cracking as tears welled up in his eyes. He wasn't sure what he was apologizing for at this point, if it was for the fact that he wasn't able to save you or for the fact that he'd called your marriage a mistake.

The last thing he remembered from that was your hand squeezing his, your eyes snapping open to look at his for a fraction of a second. "I know, Miguel," your voice was hoarse as you spoke, blood leaking from your mouth. He was immediately dismissed from the scene once the paramedics arrived, the police following soon after. While he was getting questioned as one of the suspects from the attack, you were in the back of that ambulance battling to even stay alive. He forced himself to be compliant, answering the ridiculous questions just so he could be next to you again.

The wait outside the emergency roomed seemed endless, the ticking clock on the wall only adding to the ominous mood. His hands rested on his knees, his head hanging low as he listened to the chatter going on around him. A kid complaining that their mom wouldn't give them their tablet. A woman wailing loudly at the news of her daughter's stroke. After what seemed an eternity, a nurse approached him with a solemn look on her face. "We did everything we could but unfortunately the blood loss was just too much by the time we managed to get her underneath the table. The mortician's analyzing her body down in the morgue."

"Sorry about the wait, we like to do investigations on deaths that aren't of natural causes. We managed to get the bullet out intact so our chances of finding the perpetrators are much higher now," the mortician spoke to Miguel after coming out the laboratory, the voice coming out in a dull tone as Miguel forced himself to focus. The dim lighting around him almost seemed fitting with the topic of death. "We didn't find anything too out of the ordinary, except for the fact that her hgc hormone levels were elevated upon doing blood tests," the mortician continued, treating this as standard routine while Miguel was slowly dying inside. "Can you explain what that means?"

You were pregnant. A million of different scenarios ran through his head on the drive home, the image of you swollen with his baby resting in the forefront of his brain. His grip on the steering wheel was iron tight, trying to maintain his focus on the road ahead. He imagined the baby shower that he would never get to host now, the gender reveal that would now remain a permanent part of his imagination. He was running on autopilot, unable to register his surroundings when he arrived. Home didn't feel like home anymore. Not without one of your candles burning in the background. Not without the dulcet tunes of the record player you'd spent too much on.

His knuckles were purple by the end of the night, having found the perpetrators before the police were able to. The cracking of noses and the crunching of teeth grinding together filled his ears with a certain kind of satisfaction. His sense of morality had been long tainted before, his only goal in mind to have them meet the same fate you'd did. He beaten them to a bloody pulp, their faces disfigured after he was finished with the job. He was expecting for the feeling of satisfaction to rush over him, to make him feel like this was all worth it. But all this reminded him was that you weren't coming back no matter what he did. 

Miguel spent the next couple days in bed, unable to fall asleep as the memory of your lifeless body ran through his mind at every second. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was your lips uttering that you forgave him. Shock, how he regretted the petty fight between the two of you. If the two of you hadn't been fighting, he would've been the one to take you to work instead of leaving you to your own devices. His mind was just a constant loop of: if, if, and if. He was curled up in a ball, silent tears soaking your pillow as he buried his face in it. He maintained doing this every night until the remnants of your shampoo no longer lingered on the pillowcase.

Eventually, he managed to leave the house upon realizing that all the food on the fridge was either pass its expiration date or rotten. He walked around aimlessly through the aisles, picking up what would be easiest to cook. The idea of eating didn't even appeal him all that much, not when it wasn't your delicious cooking. The type of cooking that would leave him going back for seconds, rubbing his stomach with his head tilted back at the dinner table. Soon enough, his cart was full of refried beans, frozen dinners for one, and chicken soup from a can. The once health junk that complained about processed foods was long gone, settling for what was easy.

He walked into the cleaning aisle section, unsure of what he needed to buy. You were usually the one who took care of the necessities of the house, knowing what brand of dish wash was better and knowing what brand of toilet paper would last you two the longest. He put the chemistry class he'd taken in college to work, reading through the ingredient lists until he found something that was up to his liking. He stopped by the laundry aisle, overwhelmed by the strong aroma of the different scents permeating the area. He'd only come in here to pick up one thing.

Fabric softener. It was the one thing that he did remember what brand you liked, since it was the first thing that he woke up to in the mornings. The relaxing scent of a lavender field hitting his nostrils as he brought the cover over his body. He scanned the shelves, unable to find what he was looking for. He scanned the shelves for a second time, taking his time to analyze the bottles as if he expected for it to magically appear from thin air. "Excuse me, but do you have any more of these in the back?" He asked an employee, pulling up a picture of the bottle he'd taken on his phone.

He felt the air leave his lungs as he waited, his throat constricting while his vision blurred. Bis chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, his grip on the shelf next to him tight. His body was urging him for oxygen but he couldn't bring himself to breathe, warm tears accumulating in his waterline. The world seemed to be passing him by at a rapid speed, everybody too preoccupied in their own problems. His world, however, had been turned on its axis completely. He didn't know how to function like the rest of these people, not without you by his side.

"Sir?" The employee's voice was barely heard over the ringing circulating through his head, his eyes darting over to hers. "So, about that softener. The line's chosen to discontinue that product but there's plenty more on the shelves," their words only served to disappoint him even further, the frown on his face deepening to the point it almost looked like a scowl. His hands clasped and unclasped in attempt to calm himself down, trying to acknowledge that this was far beyond his control and this poor employee's control. His control lost against his emotions, his voice wavering as he tried to speak.

"Can you check the back again?!" He managed to croak out, desperate to have something that reminded him of lazy morning spent with you. Of the feeling of having his lips pressed against your forehead, your naked bodies intertwined underneath the dark bedsheets. He hadn't even meant to snap at the underpaid employee, but he needed that fabric softener. The others on the shelves just simply wouldn't suffice. He needed that small reminder to tether him to reality.

"Sorry sir, I don't know what to tell you.." the employee's words didn't quite compute in his brain, a sudden ringing reverberating throughout his skull. He managed to nod out a response so as to not get security called on him, ignoring the stares that people were shooting his way. The shelves seemed to be crowding around him, a cage closing in around him. He needed to get out of this place, needed to get back to the comfort of his own home. He needed to get away. Get back to the one place that was still full of memories of you, your trinkets scattered throughout the house. He gave up on shopping, leaving the cart behind.

He walked into one of the bathroom stalls, closing the door behind him. If he would've been a little more self conscious about his surroundings, he would've realized that he was kneeling in front of one of the Walmart toilets. Just the sight of public restrooms was enough to disgust him on a regular basis but he wasn't thinking properly. His eyes stung as salty tears rolled down his cheeks despite his best efforts to maintain his composure. He welcomed the sting that rested on his knees, anything to distract him from the fact that he felt himself falling apart. Any feeling of pain that wasn't caused by you.

He curled up into a ball on the dirty bathroom floor, his knees resting by his chest as he burst out into tears. He'd been holding out on breaking down for so long that the seams had finally unraveled. His shoulders shook as he sobbed, his mouth silently crying out for you. For you to come back to him. "Miguel?" LYLA spoke up after a couple minutes of inactivity, noticing him on the ground a couple minutes later. While she couldn't feel human emotions, she couldn't help but feel bad seeing her creator laying on the floor. "Peter. Miguel needs your help. I'm opening a portal to you."

"Miguel, come on man. You've gotta stand up," Peter pleaded with him as he tried to help him up to no avail. "No. It hurts," Miguel muttered, his eyes starting to burn from the amount of tears he was holding back. He was never one to cry in front of other people and he certainly wouldn't start now. "I know, Miguel. But come on, you can't have a mental breakdown in a Walmart. Let's go home and drink a couple beers, yeah?" Miguel only agreed to Peter's request to get him to shut up. His metabolism was too fast for the alcohol to hit him properly, leaving him in the same state that he was in the bathroom. But for now, he'd make stupid conversation.

So if Peter had seen him in that state, why had he brought a carbon copy of the woman that haunted his every waking moment was beyond him. Miguel had to do a double take just to make sure he wasn't seeing things, just the sight rendered him speechless. You waved up at him, almost seeming like you were expecting more out of this interaction. He couldn't bring himself to act normal, to even utter a word. Just the sight of you was too painful to bear, something like Medusa's stare. He simply nodded off to whatever Peter was telling him, waiting for the doors to close before he began a thorough analysis about your background.

He couldn't help but wonder if he could morph you to be the perfect image of his wife, shape you into the perfect mold. He'd even thought about how he would go about it, slowly but surely showering you with love until he was able to make subtle suggestions to you. Subtle suggestions that would turn you into a perfect image of his wife. He shook his head after thinking through the scenario once more, realizing just how much of an asshole he was being. He knew that you were a completely different person than his wife, the mole on your left eye serving to prove his point, but that didn't mean he still couldn't see her in you. Seeing you resurfaced some feelings he'd tried so hard to bury.

"Is he like that with everyone?" You asked Peter as he led you through the various paths of HQ, various paths that you'd inevitably end up getting lost in despite the tour. "Miguel? Yeah, I'd say so. Don't take anything too personal from him. You probably won't have to see him too often since you report to me anyways," Peter's words were meant to be reassuring, but you couldn't help doubt the sincerity behind them. They seemed measured, almost like he didn't want to hurt your feelings in the process. You decided to stop asking questions about Miguel, choosing to ask more about how the society worked.

The few times that you did see Miguel were during your mission briefings and even then, he seemed to want to avoid you at all costs. He avoided eye contact with you as he spoke, answering other people's questions before answering your own. "Yes Web-Slinger?" He inquired after he was done with his train of thought, his red eyes focused on the cowboy-ish Spider-Man. "Well the little lady over there had her hand up so she can go first," the other man replied, referring to you. You wanted to shrink into your seat when everyone's gaze was directed towards you. "Yes but I’m answering your question first. What is it?"

Despite the fact that he didn't give you any actual motive to develop a crush on him, you still couldn't help yourself. You started looking forward to the mission briefings despite how much time they lasted. You started thinking about him in scenarios that you probably shouldn't have, thinking of the way his muscles would tense under your touch as you gave him a massage. You'd heard some baseless rumors from the other spiders at HQ who'd slept with him, fantasizing that it was your body he was playing like an instrument instead of them. You were practically feeding your delusions off of bread crumbs, silently cheering for yourself when he managed to face you.

You thought that maybe he was just stressed out the day Peter had introduced you to him, given that he was the one leading this whole organization and whatnot. "One coffee, please," you ordered at the cafeteria, standing for an ungodly amount of time in line. Though, with the amount of variants that wandered throughout the building, you supposed you couldn't expect for easy service. You took the cup of coffee after paying two dollars for it, making your way over to Miguel’s office. You were hoping you could get some brownie points with him. Start off slow before you tried to pursue something deeper with him, something more intimate.

You brought your fingers up to the door, hesitating for a moment before knocking on it three times. Miguel instantly hated himself for even recognizing that knock, the minute details about his wife engraved deep into his cortex. Deep into his soul. "Come in," his voice came out from inside, unbeknownst to you that he was looking at the cameras throughout HQ. "I brought you a coffee. I didn't know which one to get so I just went with black," you offered as you peered your head to look up at the platform he was standing on. You could barely make out his figure with the darkness surrounding you, the only light source being the monitors around.

"I don't drink coffee," his response came out curt, making you question what you did wrong this time. As adamant as he was to not pursue any conversation with you, you were at the very least determined to leave him with a good impression of yourself. At least aiming for that since any chances of him reciprocating the feelings brewing out inside you seemed slim to none. "Are you sure? I saw you with a cup the other day," you tried to push the subject further, hoping he'd be a bit more receptive this time around. "I didn't stutter, did I? I said I don't drink coffee."

It was so quiet that you could hear the quiet beeping from the computers, the noises almost mocking your attempts. "Well, I'll just leave it on your desk in case you change your mind," you told him, setting it down on the table with the least electronics sitting on it. You made your way out of his office, grimacing to yourself as you recounted the events. Well, at least he'd spoken more words than before. Even if they did undermine your intelligence a bit. You wouldn't consider it as a win, but you'd consider it as progress. Somewhat. Well, you hoped that it was a step in the right direction towards getting to know him.

Miguel picked up the cup of coffee, immediately wanting to be disgusted at the gesture and wanting to throw it out. He saw it as something that disturbed the equilibrium of his office. As minute as it was. He took a sip from the cup, mentally reprimanding himself for enjoying the liquid going down his throat. "You're so weird, seriously. Who just drinks black coffee?" His wife used to tease him during the mornings after making his cup, setting it on the counter along with the daily newspaper and a plate of eggs. He'd almost thought of apologizing to you, holding you against himself to remind himself of what he used to have but he knew better of it. He knew it wouldn't be the same.

You busied yourself with the multitude of files that Miguel left for you to do, the task making it seem like he was keeping you busy for as long as possible. You were buried underneath paperwork, filling up papers that you had the briefest knowledge of given the reports provided. You'd made it out of your desk at around seven, much of the other spiders having already departed from HQ to head back to their respective universes. You lingered for a little bit longer, strolling around to make yourself a bit more acquainted with the place before sitting down at the common area. You scrolled lazily through your phone, trying to find something to distract you from heading back home.

You watched as Miguel departed from his office, talking to one of the spiders with his gizmo before opening up a portal. The orange colors swirled around, complimenting the blue and red design of his suit before he disappeared inside. You couldn't help but wonder if he just had a problem with you specifically or if he had some kind of trauma trailing behind him. While he was more closed off and less charismatic than the other spiders, he at least made the effort to maintain a proper conversation with them. You rubbed your sweaty palms on the material of your pants, standing up from your seat to head into his office.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" A voice behind you boomed, your back straightening out like a ruler. You turned around to face miguel, the clip from his wedding playing in the background. Specifically the part where you, well your variant, was sharing her vows. You'd never seen him smile the way he did in those videos, never seen him so full of life. You were about to open your mouth to explain but Miguel’s glare was quick to shut you up. You didn't know how to explain the situation, that you were snooping around his personal belongings because you were curious?

"Get out. I don't want to find you in my office again."

You defeatedly got off from the platform, making your way over to the door. You looked back at him, the pain in your chest growing stronger at his rejection. You just wanted to know more about him, get a glimpse of the man behind the shell that he put on for the public. Despite getting the answers you were looking for, you were only left with more questions in turn. Did he hate you because you reminded him of who he couldn't go home to? You stood there with your hand on the doorknob like a fool, waiting for him to take mercy on your poor, bleeding heart. Mercy that unfortunately never came.

"I thought I told you to get out."

The scent of your perfume lingered inside of the room, the slightly floral aroma hitting his nostrils when you departed. He shouldn't have thought much of it but it only served to prove how much different from his wife you were. Despite the fact that the two of you were so similar, even in the ways that you acted, there was a little difference here and there. The foods that you liked to frequent, the different aromas that you enjoyed, and even the jewelry that you chose to wear. His wife had been more subtle with her jewelry while you chose to wear a heart necklace over top your Spider-Suit. Just the thought was enough to drive him mad.

Miguel let out a shaky exhale, his eyes traveling to where the clip was playing in the background. "Por ti aprendería todo los idiomas si fuera necesario para describir el amor que siento. Te amo, Miguel. Ahora y en la muerte," your voice was a sweet melody that he could never get enough, his throat closing up as he hung his head. "Y yo a ti," he spoke up along with the recording, the camera panning over to Miguel as he went through his own vows. The exchange of love brought an involuntary smile to his face, no awful dream morphing it into something it wasn't. The ceremony played out, the waltz music filling the silence in his office.

(for you, i'd learn all the languages if it was necessary to describe the love i feel for you. i love you, miguel. now and in death//and i to you.)

He frantically looked through the files, analyzing each of them by name just to make sure you hadn't deleted any while snooping around. He'd seen them plenty of times whenever his mind was too much to handle, which seemed to be more often these days. He let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding after triple checking the files, all of them where they were supposed to be. Almost as if it wasn't enough to have that sense of security, he decided to put them in an encoded folder that only he and LYLA would be able to access now. Those memories meant too much for him to put them at stake.

That night, no dreams of his wife came back to haunt him. No painful reminders of how she'd died, of how he'd failed her in her last moments. His dreams were oddly peaceful, a life in a beach paradise where none of his worries seemed to matter. He still ended up waking up in the same cold sweat when he got the image of you, the new spider recruit, haunting his dreams with that sweet smile of yours. The dream itself had been enjoyable, an arm wrapped around your waist as he kissed you good morning. The feeling of your lips wrapped around his morning erection, your tongue greedily lapping up his precum while the sunlight illuminated your features.

The thought of it being you and not his wife for once stirred him awake faster than any nightmare ever could. The fact that he was starting to grow more accustomed to you as a person, rather a simple visage reminding him of what used to be terrified him more than any multiversal anomaly. He was unable to fall asleep for the duration of the night, simply looking up at the ceiling as he tried to figure out what the dream could possibly mean. He wanted to hate you so badly, for reminding him of his past failures. And yet, he couldn't help but long for your company now that he was laying alone.

taglist🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @yournextbimbogf @nixinluv02

#moon-rivr #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara oneshot #miguel o’hara self insert #angst #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara fanfic #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara spiderverse #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara au #miguel ohara #miguel 2099 #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o’hara x fem!reader

[your-bestamericangirl]

Tolerate It.

Paige Bueckers x reader || next: n/a || masterlist

(there will be a pt 2!!)

notes: ANGST , ooc paige cuz obviously she isn't this mean, also not really a lot of paige sorry- sorta setting it up for the caitlin picking up the pieces in the second part.

now playing: tolerate it by taylor swift

(Y/n) would not do this to herself again. The warmth that once kissed her features had long since burned out. Her head hung low, eyes tracing the trail of melted wax pooling under the once-lit candle. Each droplet seemed to echo the tears she dared not shed.

How long had it been? The streetlights pouring in through the windows had been the only thing capable of illuminating the empty chair. Unfortunately, that allowed (Y/n) to continue to remind herself that someone was supposed to be sitting across from her.

Her absence was equally overwhelming as her presence. She sat atop a pedestal of achivements. Before, they had been equals, minds intertwined through a delicate thread of gold. Eventually, she rose too far for (Y/n) to reach.

As (Y/n) stared into the flickering flame, the room felt suffocatingly silent. The oppressive stillness was broken only by the faint hum of the streetlights outside, casting long shadows that danced across the walls. The empty chair stood as a silent reminder of her absence, its weight pressing down on (Y/n) 's heart like a leaden anchor.

It seemed as though now, Paige only tolerated her love.

The click of an unlocked door echoed throughout their shared apartment, bouncing off the walls.

Steps sounded, their treads light, careful not to disturb the sleeping night.

(Y/n) kept her gaze locked on the wall ahead, lest her tears fell as she found Paige’s blameless eyes.

“You didn’t have to wait for me, baby.”

“You shouldn’t have kept me waiting.”

Paige’s face carried no regret. Her eyes shut, breath from the depths of her lungs was let out in a sigh. 

From her seat, (Y/n) craned her neck upwards to meet Paige’s unbothered gaze. She searched within Paige’s eyes, there laid not even a hint of remorse.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, (Y/n) .” 

She felt the weight of Paige's words like a physical blow, knocking the breath from her lungs. The ache in her chest deepened, a gnawing emptiness that threatened to consume her whole. She struggled to find her voice, to articulate the storm of emotions raging within her.

"You don't know?" (Y/n) 's voice rang with a mixture of hurt and indignation. "Of course you wouldn’t know how it feels to wait for someone."

Paige's expression remained impassive, unmoved by (Y/n) 's pain. It was a familiar sight, one that she had grown accustomed to over time. The realization only fuelled the bitterness welling up inside her. Wood gathered under her nails, scratched off as she gripped the table. Whether it be for stability or out of anger.

"I'm tired of waiting for scraps of affection, Paige," (Y/n) 's voice wavered, betraying the depth of her despair. "Why can’t you see me."

For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the steady rhythm of their breathing. In the dim light of the room, (Y/n) could see the weariness etched into Paige's features, a reflection of her own exhaustion. She always wondered how Paige could be so oblivious to her pleas for affection. 

Long ago, Paige had thrown her weight onto (Y/n) , overwhelming her senses all at once. Perhaps dulling out what their relationship really meant. When Paige suddenly stopped reciprocating anything, (Y/n) had been thrown off balance. Where had the longing gazes departed to? The warmth coursing through both their veins turned cold. Though it had been evident who was was capable of living that way.

"I know," Paige finally spoke, her voice soft but devoid of warmth. "And I'm sorry."

Eyes shut, (Y/n) scoffed. “So?” She questioned, surely that wasn’t all Paige had to say.

It was all she ever did. Early on, (Y/n) worshiped those little apologies. Welcoming them as they had been all she had wanted to hear from her lover. Soon enough, it had been clear that Paige was accustom to using empty words.

And so, (Y/n) found herself trapped in a cycle of longing and despair, unable to escape the crushing weight of her unrequited affection. 

“I said I was sorry. What more do you want?” At this point Paige stood, exasperated and defensive. Her eyes turned sower, expression twisted as she took in the state of (Y/n) before her. 

“Where did you go?” (Y/n) questioned, her voice down to a whisper.  As the candle burned low, casting eerie shadows that danced like ghosts in the darkness, (Y/n) knew she would not do this to herself again. But the ache in her heart, the echo of her lover's absence, remained as a haunting reminder of what she had lost.

“Why are you so sensitive? I just came back from Em’s, calm down.” The answer shot out, burrying it’s resentment into (Y/n) ’s gut and spreading throughout her blood.

“No, Paige,” At last, the table became stained with tears. Ever so slowly, (Y/n) ’s heart broke. “Did you ever love me?”

(Y/n) s heart sank as she waited for an answer that would never come. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words and shattered dreams. With a heavy heart, she rose from her seat, her gaze lingering on Paige's impassive form for a moment longer before turning away.

As she stepped out into the cool night air, (Y/n) felt a weight lift from her shoulders, a sense of liberation washing over her like a cleansing tide. The streets were deserted, bathed in the soft glow of the streetlights overhead. 

The night air was cool against her skin. (Y/n) breathed it in deeply, letting go of the pain and disappointment that had held her captive for so long. 

She left behind the empty promises and broken dreams of her past. She walked with her head held high, her heart filled with hope for the possibilities that lay ahead. And as she disappeared into the night, leaving behind the echoes of a love that was never meant to be, she knew that she was finally free.

a/n: OKAY HOPE YALL LIKED IT (may or may not be based off of my own experiences-) sorry for not that much Paige, but send in more requestssss LOVE YALL MWAH

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #paige bueckers headcannon #wlw #uconn huskies #wlw fic #writing #x reader #uconn wbb #nika muhl

[styleswithaseaview]

tasm! Peter just kissing reader any chance he gets, like she comes home with groceries? kiss. she wakes up next to him? kiss. its like Peter has an addiction haha

here you go! i love writing for peter so send more. this is kind of short but cute i think | fem!reader, 0.6k words

It’s hard to tell whether it’s still too early to be up or stretching into the late morning. Your eyes are bleary with sleep, and open gradually; the light streaming in from your apartment windows, though soft and warm, feels blinding.

As soon as your eyes open you see Peter, lying opposite to you. He’s staring at you, intensely focusing on your face, and his arm, you now notice, is tucked under your side. If it was anyone else you’d be worried about hurting them, but it would be very hard for you to hurt Peter. You’re well aware that he’s not invincible - have patched up too many scratches and wounds to be that delusional - but being Spiderman has its perks. 

“Hi,” you say quietly, clearing your throat.

“Was waiting for you to wake up so I could kiss you.” Peter’s voice is thick with morning. Gravelly. Deep. It’s very attractive, but you don’t tell him that. You just smile at his tenderness and try to squeeze closer, bury your head in his chest. He doesn’t let you, reaching his free arm to gently push your chin up with his fingers. He forces you into eye contact, locking his honey-brown gaze on you before he lets it drop down to your lips. You nod just barely in silent permission, and he leans in to give you a warm, sweet kiss. It’s a while before you break away, but Peter’s not done; he peppers the entire area around and on your mouth with tiny little kisses, showering you with affection. You preen at the praise and don’t try to push him away, waiting until he stops. When he does, he’s the one to bury his head into your chest, nuzzling into you. 

“We need to get up, Pete. Have to go get groceries,” you say into his hair, and he groans in response. 

“Don’t want to…” he trails off, but rolls over onto the other side of the bed to put on his glasses. 

“You can stay here if you want. We only need a few things, I don’t mind going on my own.” He hums in response.

“I should probably go for a run or something. Need to get out of the house,” he says, running his hands through his hair and getting up to put clothes on. You do the same, and soon you’re both about to leave the house. “Kiss before you go?” he pleads, and you can’t help but oblige. He leans in to kiss you, a small peck but full of love nonetheless. 

You go off on your respective errands. Yours is a quick walk to the grocery store (where you spend more time than expected, courtesy of shopping on an empty stomach). Peter goes for a run, just a brief one to burn some morning energy. He comes back before you do, hopping in the shower. He gets out right as you arrive home. 

“I’m home, Pete! Sorry, got distracted. They had a sale on your favorite bagels, so I had to get some, then I figured you needed more-”

You’re cut off by Peter appearing into the entryway and immediately pressing a kiss to your lips. You’re startled but reciprocate, pulling away only to rest your forehead against his. He’s only halfway dressed, and you still have a bagful of groceries in your hand.

“Sorry. Can’t help it,” Peter says into your lips, nuzzling your nose with his.  “You’re- you’re fine,” you reply. Truth is, he’s more than fine. You willingly sustain his constant desire, addiction, to kiss you. Little does he know, it’s the best part of your day.

#tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker fic #tasm!peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield x you

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Although you reciprocate Sanji's affection, you're not quite ready to let yourself be vulnerable with someone. Love, however, is patient - and Sanji is nothing if not loving.]

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

Ningyo Archipelago earned its name from a rather tragic local legend: about a boy who fell in love with a mermaid, ningyo, but he was deathly afraid of the water. He stood on the shore, making a small step towards the sea each day. And the mermaid patiently waited for him, promising that he had nothing to be afraid of because she was looking out for him. Now, depending on who you ask, some of the villagers claim that the mermaid is still waiting for her lover while others are convinced they have already united. You're not quite sure which version you prefer.

At first, the myth seemed a bit cliche to you - undying, unconditional, selfless love. It belongs in a fairytale, along with leprechauns and a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. After all, no reasonable human is deluded enough to throw away their life for a love that may be. If Hell is paved with good intentions, then empty promises decorate its gates.

But your dismissal of the local legend quickly dissipates as guilt and longing tighten your chest:

Sanji.

You tried to keep him out at first, out of mercy for your own patchwork heart. Told yourself that each of his sweet words and skilfully crafted compliments were a consequence of his persona and not intimate feelings. But no matter how warily you guarded your heart, he still managed to find a way in. Some juvenile, innocent part of you wanted to welcome his affection with open arms, scream at the top of your lungs that you yearn for him in equal measure as he longs for you. However, the other aspect of you, the one that remembers the horrors you've seen and still feels the dread lingering under your skin after... well, everything - that part begs you to keep your feelings at bay or get a grip on yourself and quit this nonsense. What if you open up to Sanji and he finds you gruesome? Will he see your torn heart only to think its baggage too heavy? Or if... the history repeats itself.

No. Never. You can't let it happen again.

But then, you also can't live like this, hidden within yourself forever. You don't want to. Time goes on, yet you're stuck in place.

This fight with your own mind and soul has brought you to this quiet evening by the campfire. Archipelago's natives are most hospitable people, rejoicing at the handful of guests that have come to their shores. A night filled with delicacies, local moonshine, dances you knew no steps of. It all made for a heartfelt, happy celebration. Hours went by, soon energy dissipated and intoxication kicked in. One by one, both your friends and the natives fell asleep.

The last people standing are, as if fortune smiled down on the island, Sanji and you. He's sitting on the ground, back leaning against a log as he stares at the fire, thinking about something. Once in a while, he takes a sip of his drink. The light of untamted, yellow flames waltz across his face. Staring at him from afar, you wonder whether his hair would smell of campfire smoke if you snuggled to his side. Would the colour of his eyes turn closer to indigo in the darkness of the night?

You shake your head slightly. If you want to finally have this much-belated conversation with him, you need to think straight. You can fantasize about Sanji after he gives you a positive answer.

A playful smile enters Sanji's face when he notices you approaching. "Am I drunk or is that really an angel coming my way?" Despite the amount of alcohol he's consumed, he doesn't slur his words.

"More of a Devil's consort," you answer as you sit down next to him on the ground. Thankfully, your half-serious comment covers well your tension.

It's almost self-sabotage on your part that you sat a mere inch away from him. Something about his presence scrambles your thoughts, turning carefully prepared monologue into disjointed daydreams about the man next to you.

"You can lead me astray if you want," Sanji retorts in a low voice. If only he knew how much you'd love to.

Your breath hitches in your throat as your chest tightens further. Some primal fear residing in your bones tells you to run away, to discard the love you think you're feeling and stay in your safe, alienated shell. So what if he may be the best thing that has ever happened to you if this heartache he's bound to leave will surely be the final nail in your coffin.

"Right, about leading you..." you begin in a trembling voice.

The fear makes it hard to breathe, which doesn't escape Sanji's attention.

"What's going on, sweetheart?" he asks in a soft, concerned voice as his hand gently lays on top of yours.

You clench your other hand into a fist. The only way out of this situation is through and you're not sure if your both brave and strong enough to make the journey. Your fingernails will surely leave marks on the soft skin on the inside of you palm.

"I'm not oblivious to your advances, Sanji," you finally blurt out. The bluntness of your tone is a little too harsh than you wanted. "You're quite up-front about your feelings. And I..." you hang your voice. The words simply refuse to come out of your mouth as though a witch had put a curse on you.

"No, I get it," he nods along. Sanji's expression falls like he's about to crumble. He clenches his jaw before forcefully making himself continue in a sombre tone. "You don't like me in the same way. It's fine, really. I might die of a broken heart first but I'll be fine."

Dear Gods above and below, this is going way worse than your "What can go wrong?" scenario.

"It's not that, Sanji!" you exclaim suddenly. Equally quick you mumble an apology upon seeing Sanji's startled expression. Then, he furrows his eyebrows further, growing even more worried about you. The adoration and pain in his eyes break something in you. It's as if your consciousness has taken a step back and allowed a flood of words to spill out of your mouth. "I wish I could find the words to express how much you mean to me. That you're the only thing on my mind, day and night. But I've been through shit you don't even know about and I just... I think I need some time before we can act on our feelings."

We.

What a nice word. To be part of a union with another; to belong to someone. To never truly be alone.

The worry disappears from his beautiful, blue eyes. In turn, their expression becomes softer than you've ever seen. Sanji moves the hand that lay on top of yours to intertwine your fingers.

"I'll wait for you," he says casually, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Although you did consider this as a possible outcome, you never actually believed he'd say that. You weren't prepared for someone to be selfless towards you. It's never happened before.

"You don't have to," you try to dismiss him. Everything will be easier, but not better, if he changes his mind. "The world is filled with amazing people, I'm sure there's someone else who will love you better."

"I've already found the one I had been looking for, sweetheart," he answers slowly. Sanji brings your hand up to his lips and places a fleeting, chaste kiss on your skin. The softness of it all makes you want to cry and claw your own heart out. Why does it feel so good and so frightening at the same time?

"I don't know how long it will take me to get comfortable and open up." Your throat is too tight to speak comfortably. Tears pool in your eyes. "To be vulnerable with you."

"I will wait for you for an eternity if I have to. Whatever you need, just ask, little love."

Why does he have to love you beyond reason? Why is it so easy for him to break down your walls?

"I'm not sure I'm worth all this trouble," you whisper your confession into the silence of the night.

"Don't ever think you're a burden," he reprimands you. "You deserve only the best and I will be the happiest man alive if you let me be the one to provide. I love you more than you can imagine. I want to spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

Having no strength to hold back, you burst into tears. Is it the relief that he's willing to put up with your fears? Or maybe the happiness that he still chooses to love you? It's hard to say. Your vision is blurry as tears roll down your cheeks. No matter how much you try to control yourself, you can't.

Sanji gently wipes away your tears. His gesture is almost fearful as though the worst thing he could do is force his affection too fast for your comfort. What if he hurts you? In Sanji's mind, there's no greater sin he could commit.

"Can I hold you?" he whispers his question.

"Yes, please," you manage to babble between sniffles.

He puts his hand under your knees and effortlessly places you across his lap. Sanji's arms wrap tightly around your quivering body. His hold feels like a sanctuary.

"Thank you for telling me," he says quietly against your hair. "It was very brave of you."

You don't answer, only further nuzzling into his shoulder. Huh... He does smell of campfire smoke.

#one piece x reader #one piece #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji fanfiction #sanji imagine #sanji fanfic #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji fanfiction #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji fanfic #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji vinsmoke #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #one piece imagine #black leg sanji #sanji #one piece sanji #opla #one piece live action

[dreamescapeswriting]

Petals Of Love ~ HJS

WORD COUNT: 2.9K

GENRE: Non idol, college au, established friendships, unrequited love, jisung blind to his feelings, reader almost dying, mentions of coughing and blood, hanahaki disease [Hanahaki disease is a fictional medical condition often depicted in anime, manga, and fan fiction. It's characterized by the symptoms of coughing up flower petals or blossoms due to unrequited love. ]

PAIRING: Jisung X Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - April 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

In the bustling city of Seoul, cherry blossoms painted the streets pink, and everywhere you went petals fell down and showered those around them creating a beautiful scene, but you hated it. 

You had once loved the flowers but now they simply reminded you of the one person you could never have, the one person that was killing you slowly on the inside and didn't even know it. Your best friend. Jisung.

You'd always loved him but you hadn't realised the depth of your feelings until recently. It had started subtly, with you admiring his infectious laugh or his giant smile. The way he stored food in his cheeks or his passion for music. Everything about him drew him in. He even had a remarkable ability to see the best in people and bring joy to those around him mostly you.

"Dear? Is there something I can do for you?" A voice brought you out of your daydream as you slowly turned around to face an elderly woman who was staring at you. You took in her appearance, silver hair that cascaded down her back in gentle waves and she was dressed in a headscarf adorned with cherry blossoms. You'd been reading about her all week long, she was supposed to be the best herbalist in all of Seoul and you figured she'd be able to find a way to help you.

"I...I need your help," You stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper, and your hands were trembling.

"I have this... this illness. It's called Hanahaki. I'm in love with my best friend, Jisung, but... but he doesn't feel the same way. I'm coughing up petals, and I don't know what to do." Tears sprang to your eyes as you finally admitted it out loud to someone else. Ever since you'd started coughing up the petals you'd done everything you could to hide it, not wanting anyone to see you. 

The herbalist listened attentively, her expression softening as she heard your plight. With a gentle touch, she reached out to comfort you.

"I'm sorry, my dear," the herbalist sighed, her voice heavy with regret. 

"But there is little I can do for you. Hanahaki is a curse born of unrequited love, and its remedy lies not in herbs or potions, but in the depths of your heart." Your heart sank at the herbalist's words, your hopes dashed against the harsh reality of your situation. Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the gravity of your predicament. 

"But... but there must be something!" You pleaded, desperation lacing your voice. 

"I can't just let this disease consume me. Jisung... he means everything to me. I can't lose him." The herbalist's gaze softened, her eyes reflecting your anguish.

"My dear child," she murmured, her voice gentle yet firm. 

"Sometimes, the greatest remedies come not from external sources, but from within ourselves. Only by confronting your feelings and expressing them honestly can you hope to find peace, whether it be in love returned or in letting go." With those words, the herbalist offered you a comforting embrace, a silent reassurance that you were not alone in your struggle.

"Confess your love and hope for reciprocation or face the consequences of a love unspoken." She told you softly as she rubbed the small of your back, the weight of everything pressing down on you as you began your walk back to your shared apartment with Jisung. 

No matter how much you adored Jisung there was always someone else for him, someone he liked more than you. The thought of it made your throat close up until you coughed a little, petals falling into your hands, the beautiful pink in stark contrast to the blood red that covered them. 

As you stepped into the apartment, you were instantly greeted by the scent of your home and Jisung running around excitedly, his energy infectious as it always was. The thoughts and problems of your day melted away instantly as he grinned in your direction,

"You're back!" He exclaimed, his eyes bright with excitement.

"I have some exciting news!" Curiosity piqued you set your bag down on the floor and walked toward him,

"What's the news?" You smiled.

"I met someone, her name is Emi and she's incredible! You have to meet her!" Your heart skipped a beat, a pang of longing shooting through you as you processed his words. It honestly felt as though it was going to be anyone but you at this point and your chest tightened, your throat burning as you felt the flowers making their way up making it feel as though you were going to choke. Forcing a smile onto your face you nodded,

"T...That's wonderful, I can't wait to meet her," You lied, doing your best to mask the ache in your chest as you spoke. It would be a while before you'd ever have to face her, Jisung was always slow when it came to relationships and never wanted to rush anything. 

"Great! Chan is hosting a party tonight and she'll be there! I can't wait for you to meet her," Your smile faltered as you stared at him, this was faster than any of the past relationships he'd had. 

"Tonight? But-" You didn't even have time to come up with some kind of excuse not to come. 

"It'll be fun, I heard Lix is going to be there." He wiggled his eyebrows at you, he'd been trying to set you up with his friends for a while not catching that you weren't into them but rather him.

"Sounds good," You lied through your teeth, you could think of a million different places you wanted to be rather than at a party where you would watch him with someone else, hell being one of those places. 

"You're the best, this is going to be so much fun!" He told you, embracing you in a tight hug as you squeezed your eyes shut, enjoying the fleeting moment of being so close to him while it lasted. 

"Why not me," You whispered to yourself as he walked away from you, going to plan an outfit for the night and you coughed into your hand throwing away the petals into the bin.

The party pulsated with energy, its atmosphere electric with excitement and anticipation. Held in Chan's college house adorned with twinkling fairy lights and draped with cascading cherry blossom garlands, it resembled a scene straight out of a fairy tale. The sight of the garlands felt as though they were torturing you though, as if they were there to remind you of your unrequited love.

The air was alive with the sound of laughter and animated conversations, mingling with the rhythmic beat of music that reverberated through the room.

"This is exciting, right?" Jisung asked from beside you, the two of you went to almost all of Chan's parties and this one certainly felt more extravagant than the others that you'd been to in the past.

"Yeah it's nice," You whispered, letting your eyes linger on him for a second enjoying the way his eyes were lighting up at the sight of the party. 

"Might be his best party yet," Jisung chuckled, nudging you softly as you nodded at him but you were in complete awe of him not to agree with everything he was saying. You forced a smile on your face, your heart pounding as you followed Jisung through the throng of partygoers. You tried to focus on the lively atmosphere, the music to try and drown out the whispers of doubt in your mind. 

"Hey! Yn! Jisung!" Felix waves at you both and you smile, hugging him softly and relaxing as he whispers in your ear,

"Missed you little one," The two of you were close with one another, not in a romantic way but still close nonetheless.

"Have you seen Emi anywhere?" The mention of her name had you choking up as you stared at Felix, 

"She was with Chan last I saw her." Without a second thought, Jisung left you and Felix alone, your eyes staring off after your best friend as you swallowed the nervous lump in your throat. 

"She's the girl of the week then?" Felix teased softly, it was no secret that Jisung fell in love with a new girl faster than anyone else but it was something you found endearing about him. 

"I guess so," You mumbled, reaching for a cup from a nearby tray and downing it instantly trying to forget everything that was going to happen tonight.

The two of you fell into casual conversation, catching up with one another as you walked through the party, your eyes finding Jisung instantly as you noticed just how close he was to Emi. Their hands linked with one another as you stared at him a sharp pang of pain shot through your chest, causing you to gasp for breath and clutch onto Felix.

A delicate petal, stained with blood fluttered from your lips, a cruel reminder of the curse that plagued your heart. Felix's eyes widened in shock as he stared at you,

"You okay?" He asked, his voice laced with worry as he pulled you to the side, trying to get you out of the crowded party. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment as you tried to compose yourself,

"I-I'm fine," You stammered, your voice trembling a little.

"It's nothing." You lied, but Felix's eyes remained fixed on you, his eyes filled with understanding as he realised what was happening.

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" He asked as you stared at him, your breath caught in your throat as you nodded silently, unable to find the words to express the depth of your emotions.

"You can't tell him," You begged, your hands clutching onto Felix's forearms as petals began to fall from your lips faster than before, more blood coating them with each falling petal.

"Yn, it'll kill you if he doesn't know." Something you already knew but even if you told him and he rejected you, you were going to die, you were fighting it as much as you possibly could.

"It'll kill me faster if he knows and rejects me," You croaked out, tears streaming down your cheeks as you shook your head. You'd thought about confessing a million times before, you'd written songs, letters, and poems but nothing was ever going to work because you knew he would never love you back.

"But-"

"There's nothing I can do Lix, either way I die." You mumbled, wiping the corners of your lips to remove the blood from them, sighing a little as you shrugged your shoulders.

"How do you know he doesn't love you?" You scoffed a little and shook your head, there was no way Jisung returned the feelings you had for him,

"He would have said something." You mumbled a little, looking down at the floor as Felix stared at you,

"Like you have to him?" He had you there but you just shook your head, 

"I'm going to get some fresh air, keep him distracted...I don't want to meet Emi," You admitted as Felix nodded, always having your back no matter what.

The moon cast a gentle glow upon the garden, its silvery light dancing among the cherry blossoms like ethereal spirits. You stood at the threshold, your heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unrequited love. Each step felt like a burden, and your chest constricted with the pain of the Hanahaki disease.

With each laboured breath, you coughed, delicate petals stained with blood escaping your lips like crimson tears. The air was thick with the scent of cherry blossoms, their sweet fragrance mingling with the coppery tang of blood—a haunting reminder of the curse that plagued your heart.

As you stumbled forward, your vision blurred with tears, and the world around you seemed to spin, a dizzying whirlwind of colours and sensations. Your strength waned with each passing moment, your body growing weaker with every faltering step.

But still, you pressed on, driven by a desperate longing to be alone with your thoughts, to find solace amidst the tranquil beauty of the garden. Each petal that fell from your lips was a silent plea, a silent prayer for forgiveness and understanding. Darkness began to cloud your vision as you leaned up against a tree, trying to catch as much breath as you could but it was as though there was a filter to your lungs, stopping any viable air coming through.

In that moment of quiet surrender, you finally found peace—a fleeting glimpse of serenity amidst the chaos of your suffering. And as the night stretched on, the garden whispered its mournful lament, a solemn witness to the beauty of love unspoken and the tragedy of a life cut short.

"Have you seen Yn? I figured we'd go home together," Jisung said as he joined Felix in the kitchen but he shook his head,

"She was going for air the last I saw her," He admitted, he hadn't seen you for at least an hour now and he figured you'd gone home. Jisung smiled weakly and began to make his way through the people, his date with Emi couldn't have gone worse, it turned out she had a crush on Chan instead of Jisung and all he wanted was to go home and watch bad movies with you.

"Yn?!" He called out to the party, sighing a little at the thought of you going home alone. The two of you always went home together, dates or not. As he walked through the party, a hushed whisper reached his ears, a rumour that someone had been found unconscious in the garden. Panic built inside of him as he dashed toward the garden, his heart pounding with fear.

As he burst through to the garden his worst fears came true, you were lying on the floor surrounded by cherry Blossoms as people simply stared at you in awe. You were frail on the floor, a halo of petals surrounding you like a mournful shroud.

"Yn!" He cried out, his voice trembling with anguish as he rushed to your side, his hands trembling as he brushed bloodied petals from your chest. Your eyes fluttered open, your gaze clouded with pain as you struggled to breathe,

"Yn," He whispered, his voice choked on emotion. Tears welled in Jisung's eyes as he took in the sight of your frail form, the severity of the situation finally sinking in.

"Oh, Yn," Jisungwhispered, her voice choked with emotion, the thought of all of this happening to you.

"What happened? Why didn't you tell me?" He pleaded with you, the sound of distant sirens blasting through the air, your response was a weak cough, a delicate petal stained with blood escaping your lips—a silent testament to the depth of your suffering. 

Realization dawned upon Jisung like a bolt of lightning, illuminating the darkness of his ignorance. He'd been blind to your silent struggle, oblivious to the agony hidden beneath your friend's smiles and laughter.

"I'm so sorry," He murmured, his voice trembling with regret as tears streamed down his cheeks. 

"I didn't know... I didn't realize..." With each passing moment, your strength waned, your breaths growing shallower as the petals threatened to suffocate your fragile lungs. 

"I wrote a letter and threw it away, 'cause god just knows that I'll never say I think about you every day...I-I know you'll never see me that way." You coughed out before everything faded to black, Jisung's hands shaking you as he begged you to come back to him. 

"Yn...Yn, can you hear me?" The voice was gentle yet urgent, pulling you back from the brink of oblivion. With a faint groan, you stirred, your eyes fluttering open as you squinted a little.

"Jisung?" You mumbled, your voice hoarse from how dry your throat was. 

"You're in the hospital, you collapsed," Jisung whispered, his hands griping yours with trembling hands, you stared at him and took in his appearance, it looked like he'd barely slept and his eyes were bloodshot.

"What...What happened?" You thought for sure you would have died right then and there, it had been the only reason you'd admitted your feelings to him.

"You were coughing up blood...petals...Yn, why didn't you just tell me?" He squeezed your hand and you shook your head, looking back on it, it all seemed silly not to tell him the truth.

"I was scared I was going to lose you," You admit as you slowly sat up in the bed,

"And I nearly lost you," He choked, kissing your hand softly as you watched him,

"How am I-"

"Alive? After you passed out...I finally realised I love you, I always have and I just cried into your chest," He laughed nervously and wiped the tears away from his cheeks.

I've loved you for as long as I can remember. I just didn't know how to tell you." He admitted as you stared at him in complete shock,

"You saved my life," You whispered as you swallowed and for the first time in forever it didn't hurt, it felt pain-free as you finally didn't feel the urge to cough anymore.

"I love you, Jisung." You whimpered a little./

"I love you too, Yn," He whispers, leaning down and kissing you softly as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck bringing him closer to you.

In that moment, amidst the sterile walls of the hospital room, you felt a weight lift from your chest—a burden lifted by the power of love and the courage to speak your truth. And as Jisung leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, you knew that this was exactly where you belonged—in the arms of the man you loved, your heart finally at peace.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp @piercedddriver

#skz #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz imagines #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #han jisung #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagine #han jisung imagines #jisung #jisung x reader #jisung imagine #jisung imagines

[lunarw0rks]

Hiii, I've absolutely devoured most of your fics and I absolutely LOVE your writing style ♡♡♡ could you do an established relationship fiction with Ghost? Y/n is sort of asexual, so sometimes even if she's not in the mood herself, she just likes to watch Simon get himself off (maybe multiple rounds!!!)? Nsfw with lots of fluff??? ♡

warning(s): nsfw (18+), established relationship, fluff/smut, (m.) masturbation, asexual!fem!reader

A HELPING HAND | SIMON RILEY

it's no secret that simon's relationship with intimacy is complicated.

but so is yours, and it makes for a perfect pair... sometimes. tonight was not one of those nights.

"are you alright?" you ask, glancing up from the book in your hands.

he hasn't stopped fidgeting, and he won't. sit. down. it's starting to drive you nuts. but frankly, for such a calm man to get jittery — something was up.

it was random, his sudden urge for intimacy. however, it was clear you were relaxing, in your own little world. he didn't want to soil that. it had been weeks since you two had sex — which was usually never a problem, but tonight was especially difficult for Simon to stifle.

"...'m fine," now he's rearranging the desktop, only sitting down in the desk chair briefly as a means of distraction. his pants were painfully tight by this point.

"simon... simon." you interrupt his rambles, recognizing that familiar shift he's doing in the seat. how one hand has remained on his inner thigh for several minutes. "if you want something, all you need to do is ask, you know that, right?"

the swivel chair comes to a stop when it faces you, but he's still stiff in his posture. "not that kind of favor, love." he says, looking awfully meek for someone with such conviction any other time.

you were only teasing him before. but now you really had an answer — the root of his not-so-little problem, which resided in boxers that are currently a size too small.

though you weren't feeling any urges of your own arise, there was fun to be had in watching him. it wouldn't have been the first time, either. "why don't i watch you again?"

there was no sense in being coy like he was the first time you proposed the idea. it wasn't as awkward as you thought it'd be. in fact, that night you found the sight quite arousing... without acting feeling aroused at that moment. besides, it made the reward for later twice as satisfying — whether it be weeks, or months before you have the desire to reciprocate again.

"you're sure about this?" his movements went still as if waiting on your permission to start palming his thigh again.

with a small smile, you tossed your book aside and let it land somewhere out of sight on the bed. still, you insisted, "deadly serious, si. it doesn't bother me."

he clicked his tongue and nodded to himself, slouching a bit in the chair to unbuckle his belt. the metal clinked as he shimmed with it, eventually setting the accessory on the desk behind him. once the jeans were loosened, you could truly see the pressure of his hardened length — begging to be sprung free.

simon shifted his hips until only his jeans were pulled down a bit. next, he peeled back the waistband of his ebony briefs, cock slumping against his tone stomach. tip ruddy and oozing pre-cum, and his stomach heaved a bit from the sensation of having his problem released from the confines of clothing.

thick, calloused hands grasped his erection, slouching forward to spit on it. the translucent string rolled down his shaft, going the pattern of the prominent veins along its sides. a truly lude image to witness; tempting, even, if you were truly in the mood.

instead, it was motivation enough for another time.

manspreading in the desk chair, he continued to work his cock. faint, wet clicks of the lubricant echoing through the bedroom. it didn't help how quiet simon naturally was. but where was the fun in this, if not putting on some sort of show for you?

he let a few noises slip, huffing through his nostrils audibly and letting out small grunts the faster you went. you lay back against the plush bed, biting back feelings of fluster that came whether aroused or not. his moans were rare and cherished — and you happened to be one of the few souls lucky enough to hear them.

you folded your arms and watched intently, gnawing on your bottom lip. not being aroused didn't mean you weren't going to ogle him, especially when all hot and bothered.

his hand moved hastily, its large size swallowing his length, covering more surface area than yours ever could. you'd catch his hips bucking in the seat while he maintained eye contact — unless they drooped shut when his fingers brushed against his sensitive slit. the same way he shuttered when you skimmed your tongue along it many times, except he had the luxury of not getting 'scolded' for it.

now he's exposed his weak points. you now knew he savored it when you teased your tongue there.

especially when he'd gotten so twitchy with his own thumb caressing. well, now you've taken note to tease him that way again, no matter the repercussions.

"need to— fuck— touch you," his speech skipped like a scratched CD, the strokes growing sloppier and more desirous. he was close; so fucking close.

you nod your head, watching him stand to his feet. as simon walks over, he slows his roll a bit, enough to ensure he won't spill right then and there. you remain in the same position, except for the hand you place on his waist, running your palm up and down his abdomen to give him for stimulation.

he stands beside the bed, his clean hand reaching out. his thumb brushes against your lip, giving your bottom one a slight drag — then slipping between them and running along your gums, allowing you to tongue along his finger like you would his cock.

the sticky, gummy texture of your mouth — like that of your entrance clenching around him. and your caress, like you always did when he hit spots deep inside. your small contributions allowed his imagination to do the rest of the heavy lifting.

you palmed his abs, maintaining eye contact to give him every bit of this otherwise touchless act. but your hand along his stomach was enough, as was playing with your mouth; enough to push him turbulently over that edge.

a string of curses poured from simon's lips, just like the globs of cum that followed quickly after. into his palm, he released his load, hips grinding against nothing until the overwhelming sensations ceased. his finger removed from your mouth with a pop, before he sped to the bathroom to wipe himself off.

a few moments later, he returned, finding you in the same position. it was quite a show, to put it lightly; not one you'll forget any time soon, either.

instead of standing like before, he knelt in front of the bed, sitting between your legs with his neck craned to look up at you. "that was alrigh' with you?" he asks again as if the 'damage' wasn't already done.

you nodded again, reassuring him once more, "of course, si. it doesn't bother me. and it's... a sight to see." you attempt a wink but look more like you're trying to get something out of your eye.

he scoffs at your attempt, taking both your hands — while simon's are icy and freshly smelling of the lavender soap in the washroom. despite your humor, it means a lot to be reassured by you. "christ, you are unbelievable, lovie. y'know tha'?" he teases, giving each of your knuckles a buss.

"i know it," you sneer, squirming slightly from the pecks. "but i still won't forget tonight. it'll keep me warm when you're away."

his brow cocks, and then comes a half-awkward chuckle. "you're a bloody tease, but i'm guessing you know that too, don't you? and a proper smart mouth."

you retort the same, having keen knowledge of how to press his fragile buttons. "what are you going to do? get the soap?"

"might have to." simon replies with faux sternness, even while speaking through a warm smile, the rough pads of his thumbs still rubbing your knuckles.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━♡━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST ────have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ˗

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ divider cred. - cafekitsune ｡･:*:･

#mw2 #call of duty #task force 141 #simon riley #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x reader #rachel speaks

[lesbianfakir]

Thinking about this post and can we talk about how important it is that fakir was okay with Duck not loving him back?

I think it’s fair to say it’s pretty heavily implied that he’s in love with her, and it’s explicitly confirmed in the guidebook.

While Duck’s feelings for him are more nebulous and hard to pin down, from his perspective she’s in love with Mytho. We as the audience know she doesn’t actually feel that way about Mytho but from Fakir’s perspective everything she’s done so far has been for Mytho. She admitted to him in episode 12 that she had feelings for mytho and there has been nothing to dissuade him from this line of thinking. In fact, he finds her crying because mytho chose rue.

There’s this little moment I like. When Duck tells him mytho has chosen rue as his princess his eyes narrow ever so slightly.

[ID: two screenshots of Fakir from episode 25. In the first he is looking at Duck (off camera) with a serious expression. In the second he narrows his eyes slightly. End ID]

He REACTS to this news, even if it’s subtle. And he doesnt look happy about it. Fakir is upset that Mytho rejected Duck. And this seems so antithetical from what we come to expect from a romantic subplot.

So the girl he loves loves someone else… and he’s okay with that. He never tries to pressure or guilt Duck into being with him. Hell he never even mentions his feelings. She likes someone else so what’s the point. But this never dissuades him from his devotion to her. He doesn’t give her an ultimatum or make her choose. He doesn’t even seem get upset that she loves someone else. Even when she goes back to being a duck destroying his last hope of being with her romantically, even then he never wavers. He wants to spend the rest of his life with her. Whether that’s as friends or as partners or as just a simple boy and a duck, he wants to be with her. How she feels for him doesn’t matter so much as getting to share his life with her.

And I find this such a refreshing spin on tired romance tropes. “Just friends” looms large in our media so it’s lovely to see a boy in the so called “friendzone” who’s okay with it. Beyond okay he treasures the time he spends with Duck. His affection for her doesn’t hinge on reciprocation.

It’s so common for characters in fakir’s archetype to grow angry or sad that they’re not “the one,” often lashing out at the girl who doesn’t return their feelings. But instead we have Fakir who’s perfectly content to stay Duck’s friend. After all, being her friend is a gift in itself.

I just love to see a platonic relationship not treated as a lesser stepping stone to a romantic relationship. Sure, Fakir has feelings for Duck. But that in no way undermines the friendship they already have. It’s treated with all the gravity usually reserved for romantic relationships. They’re going to spend their lives together and whether that’s as friends or as lovers—that part isn’t important.

I’m tired of media treating friendships like they’ve suddenly become worthless when one party develops feelings and the other doesn’t return them. With fakiru, the lovely part is that their relationship is built on such a strong foundation it can stand on its own. We the audience are free to interpret it as romantic, platonic, or something in between, but with any reading their close friendship forms the centerpiece.

#somehow by not being canon romantic they invented romance #HUGE win for the aros and the aces (me) #this post inspired by #*drumroll* #TROLLS WORLD TOUR #trolls world tour had a subplot that irked me where branch was upset because he was ‘only best friends’ with poppy #like allos will be allos I know #but aren’t you happy just to be with her? #isn’t every moment you spend as her friend wonderful?? #but nooo you need to kiss her too #pathetic. #allos will be allos I just won’t understand #princess tutu #fakiru #queerplatonic fakiru #<—making that it’s own tag #lea posts #described

[songforeddiemunson]

Haunting in Blackwood Hollow

An Eddie Munson x F!Reader Miniseries

Series Summary: It’s the year 1991. Eddie and reader check into a rented house in the Appalachian woods, joined by Nancy, Jonathan, Steve, and Robin. Unfortunately for our gang, things in Blackwood Hollow are never as they appear.

Tropes: established relationship, Jonathan x Nancy, no mention of the events from ST, smut, comedy, fluff, scares, bit of whump (but nothing too crazy)

Series Warnings: Swearing, drinking and weed use, sexual and scary situations, minors please DNI.

Chapter One: Steve's Big Mistake

Chapter warnings: naughty language, mentions of drinking, weed use. This is largely setting the scene babes. Author's Note: Submission for @stcreators Event 5: Dynamics Submission for @somnambulic-thing, @allthingsjoeq, and @bettyfrommars event: strangerprompts (#14) {Okay so I took a bit of liberty with the prompt, but that's just how my brain wanted to do it! You know how that goes. ;) }

Word Count: ~2K

You swore under your breath as the taxi pulled away, leaving you staring at the monstrosity you were meant to be staying in for the weekend.

“This is the last time I leave that jackass in charge of anything,” you muttered, prompting a snort from Eddie, who stood beside you.

You liked Steve. Loved him even, in the way that friends that have known each other for years did, who’d seen each other at their worst, thick as thieves, none of that ‘will they or won’t they’ shit, especially after you started seeing Eddie. But in that moment, you could strangle him.

Most of your group of friends had scattered to the four corners of the country, so when you all received your invitations to Joyce Byers’ and Jim Hopper’s wedding in the Smoky Mountains, you decided to rent a whole house instead of getting hotel rooms. Correction: Steve came up with the idea to rent a house, and admittedly it was a good plan. It would likely be cheaper to pool your resources, and you could all hang out in the common areas and catch up.

And then you saw the house.

It was a stereotype in peeling paint and dilapidated wood. The porch was creaky and appeared to be on the verge of collapse. Gnarled old vines and weeds encroached from every direction; you thought maybe it had been landscaped last sometime in the 1960s. A broken old fountain sat on the front lawn, with a scummy green puddle of rainwater gathered at the bottom, and there was a broken gate that hung loose on its hinges near the drive.

Eddie tilted his head in a manner reminiscent of a terrier as he surveyed the old structure. “I think it looks kinda cool, like that house in IT. The house on Neibolt Street, remember?”

You blinked at your paramour. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to spend the weekend in a house like that. It’s one thing to read about it in a spooky story, it’s another thing to actually sleep there.” He had the good grace to laugh at that sentiment.

“Fair enough,” he conceded.

Of all the houses in Asheville, Tennessee, THIS is the one he chooses? You thought bitterly as you made your way up the walkway toward the porch, stepping carefully on the worn wood and looking for nails that could be lying in wait to impale your foot.

You had no idea if anyone else had already arrived, and whether you were supposed to knock or just walk in. You had decided to try the former, but your knuckles hadn’t had a chance to make contact with the wood before the door was whipped open, revealing a clearly exasperated Robin.

“Omigosh you’re here!” she cried joyfully as she threw her arms around you. You let your weekend bag drop to the porch as you reciprocated the hug.

“Robin! I’m so glad to see you!” you cooed as you gave her a good squeeze then released her. “But what the hell is this house?”

“Right?! I feel like it’s right out of a Scoobie Doo episode or something. Talk about creepy. Eddie! Hi!”

“I’ve seen worse,” a deeper voice intoned from out of eyesight, shortly before Steve stepped into the foyer.

“Steve! It’s lovely to see you, but what the fuck?” you scolded.

Steve’s expression was so sheepish that you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“I know, I know,” he moaned, before putting his face in his hands.

“Come here and hug me, loser. I haven’t seen you in almost two years and you’re gonna make me sleep in the house from Amityville Horror?”

“Hey now,” Robin countered, “The Amityville Horror house was waaay nicer than this.”

“True. Eddie said it looked like the house from IT.”

“Oooh yes! That fits,” Robin said.

“What’s that? It?” Steve asked, never one to embrace pop culture.

You hugged Steve despite wanting to hurt him a little bit. “Nevermind. So what were you thinking with this house?”

“Okay so in my defense the pictures were much nicer in the Want Ad, and in black and white. I didn’t realize it was going to be so…”

“Shabby?” you offered while Robin said “terrifying” at the same time.

“Yeah,” Steve said with a shrug.

Eddie chuckled as he hugged his friends by way of greeting.  “Alright well, as long as the bed is clean, I don't really care,” he said. “This one is scared of spiders,” he said, gesturing toward you. 

“I am not, you are!” you yelled.

“I am NOT afraid of spiders,” Eddie replied defensively. “It’s those fucking centipede things with all the legs. I hate those things.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure there are plenty of things in this house to trigger all our phobias.”

The interior was a little less gloomy than its exterior, but that wasn’t saying much. The common room in which you were standing was decorated in 50 year-old wallpaper that was peeling and yellowing. The floors were hard wood but hadn’t been refinished since the wallpaper was installed, and the dusty old upholstery was flat and worn around the edges. 

“Where are we sleeping, anyway?”

“There’s three bedrooms, one with a queen and two with a pair of singles. I figured we could draw straws or someth–”

“Dibs on the queen!” Eddie shouted.

“Eddie, we have to–” you began.

“Nah babe. We’re a couple, and we got here first. You snooze, you lose.”

“I think that’s fair,” Robin said with a shrug.

“Nancy and Jonathan won’t love that,” Steve said. “But you can fight it out amongst yourselves. I’m staying out of it. Looks like you’re bunking with me, Robin.”

“I don’t care, as long as you don’t snore.”

Nancy and Jonathan arrived about an hour later, and while they weren’t thrilled to be relegated to a pair of twin beds, they conceded that Eddie did in fact call dibs.

“I feel like we’re eighteen again,” Nancy laughed as she explored the kitchen for a clean glass for water. “Calling dibs and bunking up together. Feels like old times.”

“It does,” you agreed from where you were leaning against the counter. “I don’t know if I would use any of the dishes in this house though.”

“I might just make a store run, get some solo cups and paper plates,” she said as she put one grimy glass back in the cupboard with a look of distaste. “Any requests?”

“Oooh, cheez-its, snapple peach tea, pizza pretzel combos…”

“PBR,” Eddie contributed as he sidled up next to you and bent to give you a quick peck on the lips.

“Well of course,” Nancy said with a smile. “Can’t forget the beer.”

Robin poked her head into the room. “Grab a couple of pizzas! I’ll give you cash.”

You all pitched in for the snacks and sent Nancy on her way as the sun began its descent behind the trees. The rest of you gathered in the living room to figure out what to do for the night.

“Care for a toke?” Eddie asked, as he held up a joint he pulled from his jacket and set it alight.

“Yessss,” Jonathan replied with enthusiasm, leaning forward to pinch the little joint between his fingers.

“That didn’t take long,” Steve said with a roll of his eyes.

“Lighten up, Harrington,” Jonathan said in a fragrant plume of exhalation, stifling a cough. “You could probably use this more than the rest of us. You’re too wound up.” 

“It’s true Steve, why are you always so stressed out?” you asked, taking a pull from the joint.

“I don’t know, I just feel like I’m the responsible one–” he began, but was cut off by a chorus of jeers and naysaying.

“You think you’re the responsible one, but everyone knows it’s Nancy,” Robin said, laughing.

“Yeah man, like…the King Steve days are over, you can stop trying so hard,” Eddie added with a grin.

“Okay, okay, I get it…” Steve said, accepting his ribbing with a modicum of grace. His voice trailed off, however, as his attention was pulled in another direction. “Hey what’s that?”

“What?” you and Jonathan asked at the same time, following his gaze. 

“It’s on top of that bookshelf…” he began, already getting up and walking toward it. He had to stand on the tips of his toes to reach it, and pulled it down, unleashing a cloud of dust and grime.

“What is it?” Eddie asked.

Steve brushed the dust off the cover before looking up at you with wide eyes. 

“It’s a ouija board,” he said.

“Oh shit,” Eddie said, laughing. "You can't be serious."

“What! No, no thank you!” Robin yelled.

“I dunno man, you might want to put that back and pretend you never saw it,” Jonathan added with a smirk.

“What, nah, that stuff isn’t real,” you said.

“No, it’s not,” Steve agreed. “It’s just a silly game.”

“If it’s just a silly game,” Eddie taunted, "why don’t we take it for a spin?”

“Oh man, no, don’t give him any ideas,” Robin piped in with her trademarked ‘mile-a-minute’ cadence. “Did you see the movie Witchboard? Well I did, and I didn’t sleep for a week afterward. Too scary for me. And it’s kinda weird that that thing just shows up in the spookiest house I’ve ever seen, and we’re in the middle of nowhere and…”

“What’s Witchboard?” Steve asked.

“Dude, watch a movie…” Eddie moaned while Jonathan doubled-over laughing.

Steve laid the box down on the coffee table. “Well, just because there was a movie about these things doesn’t make them real. The Princess Bride isn’t exactly real either.”

Eddie gasped with mock incredulity. “It’s NOT?”

“Have fun NOT storming the castle I guess,” Jonathan tried to say without laughing, which came out as a choked squeal.

“Inconceivable!” you yelled, making the entire room erupt in hearty laughter and dispelling some of the unease that had grown since the discovery of the ouija board.

“Jesus guys, are you that stoned already?” Steve asked with a smile.

“Eddie only buys the good stuff,” you said.

“Zero to zooted within three hits, or your money back,” Eddie said before taking another pull from the joint.

“Good to know,” Steve said sarcastically. “So are you guys gonna play with this thing or not?”

“Fine fine,” you said. “Eddie, let’s do this.”

He agreed, and you sat on the floor on either side of the coffee table. You opened the box, took out its contents, and each placed the index finger of your right hand gently on the planchette. You sat silent for a moment, not doing or saying anything, unsure of where to begin.

“Uhhhh,” Eddie said before dissolving into giggles.

“Ask it something!” Robin whispered, leaning forward in her excitement.

“Okay, uh…” you began, pausing to think. “Is there anybody here with us right now?”

It seemed like the entire room held its breath with anticipation.

“Is there anyone here in this house?” you repeated.

The silence ticked onward.

“Well this is thrilling,” Jonathan said with a snort.

“Give it a minute,” Steve said.

“Thought you didn’t believe in this stuff, Stevarino,” Eddie teased.

“I don’t, but–”

You thought you felt the planchette move ever so slightly. 

“Wait!” you gasped. “Did you feel that?”

“No, wait. Maybe?” Eddie whispered.

You sat motionless for a beat, but nothing happened. You began to think that it was your imagination when…

….suddenly the front door banged open with a loud smash, and every single person in the room screamed like a banshee.

“Jesus, guys!” Nancy said as she struggled to hold several brown paper grocery bags. “A little help here?”

“Oh fuck, sorry babe,” Jonathan said, and the rest of you sheepishly got up to help, leaving the ouija board on the table. You bustled into the kitchen to put things away and pop open cans of beer, laughing about the silly jump scare you’d all just shared.

What none of you saw, however, was the planchette on the ouija board slide over to ‘hello.’

To Be Continued...

Sorry this one is short, but I needed to get it out. More is coming! As always, comments and reblogs are the lifeblood of every fic writer!

PART TWO MASTERLIST

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson series #spooky story #stranger things fanfic #strangerprompts

[dustofthedailylife]

Rejecting you was my first mistake

→ Masterlist

Summary: They harshly reject you before realizing later on that they had feelings for you all along... only that you have already turned over a new leaf.

Pairings: Ayato, Kaeya, Xiao, Alhaitham x (gn!) Reader - [separate]

Tags: Angst, Hurt/no comfort

A/N: Hi peeps! I'm back with a new fic. Perfect for the gloomy fall season I deliver you some angst that a nonnie requested. I also added Alhaitham despite not being in the request. This is my first time writing for him (and it's angst, haha! He'll also get some fluff soon, I promise!)

AYATO

You looked below yourself and started drawing circles in the sand on the beach you were sitting on with Ayato. Your heart painfully clenched in your chest as you were unsure whether or not now was the right time to pour your heart out to the man by your side. Would he feel the same or would it end up ruining the friendship you’ve had since your childhood days?

“What is troubling you?” There really was nothing you could hide from him, was there?

“Nothing.”, you attempted to reassure him but he didn't seem convinced and raised an eyebrow with worry flaring up in his lavender eyes. You sighed deeply, your mind and heart starting to race one hundred miles per hour, while trying to gather all your courage.

“Ayato, I… I think I have feelings for you.”

“Oh.”

A small frown played around his lips that looked more like he was pitying you and you could feel how your heart shattered into a million pieces. A mind numbing silence followed your confession that almost drove you insane.

“Oh? That is all you have to say?”

“I’m sorry... I won’t be able to give you the reply you’re hoping for... I do not reciprocate your feelings, I see you more as a part of my family. I've actually been meaning to tell you today, that I’m going to be wed soon”

“... a wedding?”, you asked in disbelief with a quivering voice.

“It has not been officially announced yet, but she is from an allied clan and it was my father’s dying wish that I’d marry her.”

You turned your face away from him, not wanting him to see how his words had crushed even the last bit of hope you've ever had. You could feel tears stinging at the corners of your eyes and a painful lump forming in your throat. You got up from where you were sitting, kicking off the sand that stuck to your clothes and sighed silently in defeat.

“Do you love her?”, you asked with a shaky voice, waiting for his answer.

“I will.”, he replied after a short moment of hesitation, as if he was looking for the right words in order to not wound you more than he already had, oblivious to the fact that your heart was already broken beyond repair.

You nodded in acceptance before you started to walk away without looking back, feeling his pitying stare burn into the back of your head.

Weeks turned into months and months soon turned into years but he never saw you again since that day on the beach. You didn’t attend his wedding, that he had attempted to invite you to again via numerous letters, either. But every letter he sent to you or spontaneous visits to your home, stayed unanswered, until he ultimately decided to leave you alone to allow your broken heart to heal at its own pace. 

It wasn’t until he found a letter addressed to him on his desk one day, that made reality suddenly crash down on him.

Dear Lord Kamisato,

I am truly sorry that I did neither reach out for a long time nor that I could deliver this message to you in person. Shortly after our talk at the beach back then I realized that I needed to change something about my life and decided to leave Inazuma for good. By the time you will receive this letter I am already long gone.

I had realized that I needed to stop chasing impossible dreams and start focusing on my own goals in life and I knew that wouldn’t have been possible, if my feelings for you kept being an obstacle. It felt like I was drowning in a deep ocean, trying to reach the surface in order to be able to breathe again, but no matter how hard I struggled, it felt like it kept moving further and further away from me. Thus I took the next ship to Liyue and started to build a new life there. You’ll be happy to hear that I even met a lovely man that I married not too long ago.

I’m sorry I could not attend your wedding and I often miss the days where we hung out to talk or played chess together. I hope that things have gone well on your end and that you’re happy and doing well where you’re at now.

With Love,

Your old friend

He gingerly put the letter back on the table in front of him, tracing your penmanship with his finger as if he intended to feel your presence through it under his fingertips for one last time. He harshly bit his lip and felt a single tear rolling down his cheek. He wondered why your words caused him such intense grief all of a sudden.

It wasn’t until his eyes landed on the photo of him and his wife on his wedding day that he began to realize and a tidal wave of regret surged over him.

Back on that day on the beach he told you he would get married, he told you he would love her and he told you he doesn’t love you the same way you loved him. So why was it that only now he realized that it was you, that it had always been you, who he had been in love with all along? He had been a coward and pushed you away. Now you are gone, building a family of your own, far away from him, while he is trapped in a loveless marriage with a woman he has nothing in common with.

He had lied to himself all these years, convincing himself that he was happy with the way things were now - but the cold hard truth was, that he could not be happy if it wasn’t with you.

KAEYA

“And I won, again!”, Kaeya snickered, throwing his playing cards on the table triumphantly before downing the rest of his wine in one sip. It had been a cheerful evening that you and him spent together at the Tavern after work and you’d feel great, if only it wasn’t for your crush on the Cavalry Captain, which increasingly pushed itself in the foreground on your mind.

“I give up, you beat me! Drinks are on me tonight”, you chuckled and lifted your hands up in defeat before going to order another round of drinks for you. 

Kaeya watched as you walked over to the bar, conversing with the familiar bard who seemed to be quite fond of the wine as well and often kept hanging around the Tavern. He watched as the young bard threw a quick glance over his way before leaning in closer to you and whispering something in your ear that seemed to fluster you quite a bit, making you shake your head quickly.

“Got a love confession from the little bard over there, sweetheart?”, Kaeya teased as you arrived back at the table with the drinks.

“No, no, nothing like that. Nothing important.”, you reassured him, but deep down you hoped that what Kaeya had just asked was a small sign that he was interested in you as well.

As the evening drew to a close, Kaeya and you walked home together until you stood in front of your door. The moment you took the doorknob in your hand you suddenly turned around again with newfound courage, determined to spill your hearts content out to Kaeya.

“Alright, here we are. See you tomorrow! We can–”

“Kaeya, wait…”, you interrupted him and grabbed his hand before he could leave. “Remember when the bard told me something earlier?”

“Yeah, I do. Need any love advice from yours truly?”, Kaeya teased.

“Kaeya, please. This is not about him… but about something he told me, or rather about something he told me to do.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“Tch, that’s one way to put it… Kaeya, listen, I think – no, I’ve realized you’re more to me than just a friend. I–I I have feelings for you.”

A long silence followed your confession. His expression remained unreadable until he eventually pulled his hand out of yours again, placing it over his stomach and starting to laugh. Your heart painfully clenched at the sound of his bellowing laughter echoing in your ears.

“Hahaha, sweetheart. I think you had a bit too much to drink tonight, hm?” He remarked and patted your cheek with an amused expression, wiping a tear out of the corner of his eye.

“I only drank grape juice, Kaeya!”, you exclaimed, slapping his hand away in frustration. “I meant what I said.”

“Oh.”, he paused, his amused expression replaced with one that essentially told you everything you needed to know. He did not feel the same way about you.

“You actually like me?”

“I do… quite ironic, huh? The first time I ever fall in love, it’s with the only person who doesn’t love me back.”, you directed your gaze at the ground, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you desperately tried to swallow them down.

“I-I guess I’ll leave you be… goodnight. See you tomorrow, maybe…” He turned around, quickly waving you goodbye and leaving you heartbroken.

In the following weeks he noticed that you were purposefully avoiding him but he couldn’t blame you for it. He tried to act as he normally would when he ran into you, in the hopes that things would go back to how they were before that night, but they never did. In fact the more he tried to act normal, the more he felt like you were pushing him away, until you ultimately came to his office, handing him your letter of resignation telling him that you couldn’t keep going as if nothing happened.

It wasn’t until he saw you walking around the Dawn Winery’s vineyard hand in hand with Diluc, when he was there for some official business on the Knights' behalf, that he felt something inside of him die. At first he shrugged it off as jealousy, until he wondered why he was jealous in the first place. He had told you he had no feelings for you, so why did he feel the way he did when he saw you so happy and in love with Diluc? Why was it only now that he realized that he was in love with you?

To shield himself, he had always been so used to lying and keeping his heart locked, even to the ones he loved, that he had become numb to its desires - running away from his own feelings, until it was too late.

In the end all he could do was ruin things and push people away. It’s what he was best at, it seems.

XIAO

Xiao and you had hung out at Wangshu Inn but as soon as you had gone home he found your backpack sitting on one of the chairs on the balcony. Surely you must’ve forgotten it.

He picked your backpack up before it slipped out of his grasp, spilling its contents on the floor. Among it was your diary, which flipped open and landed face down on the ground.

Xiao let out an annoyed sigh as he picked up the things scattered across the floor, until he picked up your diary and caught a glimpse of a page where you had stuck a picture of you and him together with some doodled hearts and a small note reading "One day I will tell him..." below it.

What did that have to mean?

As if prompted, out of the corner of his eyes he spotted how your familiar figure appeared at the entrance to the balcony again. You halted the minute you saw him stand there, backpack on the floor with all your things scattered around it and your diary in his hand - opened. You could feel panic well up inside of your chest and your heart dropped heavily.

“What are you doing there, Xiao?”, you asked with unease in your voice. Had he seen the picture with your notes?

“I wanted to bring you your backpack, you’ve forgotten it. I accidentally dropped it… what does this have to mean? What will you tell me one day?”

He turned around, stretching his arm out, showing you the opened book in his hand and your worst fears had become reality the moment you saw which page he had been looking at. 

“Xiao, I–, archons why did you have to see this… I like you Xiao – a lot actually.”

He eyed you cautiously with an indecipherable expression in his eyes. Was it confusion, was it anger or maybe even lack of understanding? You couldn’t tell and the silence that followed your confession made your heart painfully contract in your chest.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” 

“Why would you want to tell me this? What made you think I’d ever feel the same way? I’m not capable of feeling this way towards you, or anyone.”

“It’s not like I chose to.” Your voice was nothing but a mere whisper at this point and the lump in your throat became more painful by the minute. You took your last bit of strength to rip your diary out of his hands and quickly gathered your things together, that were still lying on the ground and stuffed them into your backpack. You flung it over your shoulder and left the adeptus without looking back once. 

This was the last time Xiao talked to you. He convinced himself that he didn’t need anyone around anyway, he’d been alone for centuries already, he could do a couple more. That was until the Lantern Rite came around a year later.

He never had been the person to hang around big crowds and this year would be no different. He sat atop one of the buildings in the city, overlooking the harbor and watching the lanterns float into the night sky.

Suddenly his gaze found you in the large crowd at the pier and he watched you as you let your own lantern rise into the sky, but you weren’t alone. There was a man with you who kissed you tenderly as you stood there hand in hand, looking after your lantern with a big smile on your face.

Something inside of him stirred at the sight of you looking at another man with the same adoration you’ve had in your eyes for him back then. How often had you asked him if he had wanted to visit the Lantern Rite together with you as well and how often did you skip going because he refused to go?

The scene where you had left him on the balcony of Wangshu Inn, when he had found your diary, played in front of his inner eye again, evident hurt in your eyes, inflicted by his vicious words, when all you had ever shown and given to him was your time and love. He had yet again been too stubborn to realize what his heart wanted and fell back into old patterns of pushing anyone away who got too close to him. Maybe he had been scared of what it would mean if he had admitted he had felt the same for you – in fact, he still felt the same. But you no longer did.

He had pushed you away and you found happiness with someone else. Someone more deserving of your love and he had no one to blame but himself for that.

ALHAITHAM

The day you found out you and Alhaitham had been assigned to the same research trip for the Akademiya, you had felt your heart do a little jump for joy in your chest. Both of you had started studying together at the Haravatat and occasionally had been working on group projects.

The trip itself started well, you had been sent to research and gather information on some carvings found in one of the ruins of King Deshret in the desert. You had set up camp at the oasis nearby and working with him was going smoothly so far, as it always did.

On the second day you decided to venture deeper into the ruins together, to see if you'd find more inscriptions. As you took the lead, you suddenly felt one of the tiles below your feet sink down and before you could react you felt a strong arm snatch around your waist, pulling you to the side. Once you came to again you found yourself lying atop of Alhaitham, your back pressed against his chest and his arm still around your waist, in front of you a pile of rubble that had fallen down from the ceiling.

"Careful, there are traps here.", he rationally explained. Maybe a bit too rational considering you could have died. But you didn't give it too much thought, also because you were way too distracted by the pounding of your heart in your chest, and you knew it wasn't because of the triggered trap that it was beating so loudly.

"Right…", you huffed breathlessly, before slowly trying to wiggle out of his grasp again. Had the placement of his arm been intentional or did you interpret too much into it? As your thoughts spiraled off, you felt your cheeks heat up, looking down to the ground in an attempt to hide your flustered face from him.

"Are you hurt?"

"No. No, I'm fine. Thank you… for pulling me out of the way."

He looked at you with a stern expression, nodding in acknowledgement before brushing some sand off his clothes and returning to his studies wordlessly. He sat down on a huge stone in front of a mural, continuing to scribble notes in his notebook. 

"Alhaitham?", you rasped with evident nervousness in your voice, gathering all your courage for what you were planning to say.

“Hm?”, he hummed, just briefly flicking his gaze up to you. You deeply inhaled beginning to feel your heartbeat pulsate in your temples.

"I think you're really great and–"

"Do you intend to ask me for help with your paper?"

"N-no, no that's not what I was going to say… uhm, I've been meaning to say that I really really like you.", you stammered, gesturing about wildly with your hands.

"I like you too, you're a great research partner and have great academic potential."

Ouch. Either he was completely oblivious or playing dumb, no matter the case, the lump in your throat became so big it started to hurt and at that moment you wanted nothing more than to cry and run away. Your confession had backfired even worse than anything you had imagined.

"I-I don't mean academically… or even as a friend. I like you… romantically, Alhaitham.", you coaxed out, using up all your strength in order to not start crying.

He looked up from his notes and put his pencil down, eyes now fully trained on you while furrowing his eyebrows.

"What made you think I have feelings for you?", he asked with an annoyed undertone in his voice. He slightly shook his head and devoted himself to his notes again.

He did not speak to you for the entire rest of trip afterwards, outside of the strictly necessary communication. Practically acting as if you didn't exist. Leaving you even more embarassed and heartbroken than you had already been from his original rejection.

Back at the Akademiya you immediately enrolled to change subjects and joined the Amurta for a short while, before deciding to quit your academic career entirely to become a Forest Ranger in Avidya Forest.

Alhaitham would lie if he had said he immediately noticed that you had quit, it had only occurred to him several weeks after you had been gone. It had gotten rather quiet recently and while he usually didn't mind being on his own and studying alone, he did miss your input on certain matters.

It wasn't until one day where he was tasked to bring an important document to Tighnari in Avidya Forest on the Akademiya's behalf, that he realized his grave mistake. It was then he saw you again for the first time. You stood on the gravel path in front of Tighnari's hut, both your hands interlocked with his, pressing a fleeting kiss on his lips. A smile brighter than the sun gracing your beautiful features before waving Tighnari goodbye and heading for the forest, together with a girl with green hair and purple eyes.

At that moment Alhaitham felt a wave of emotions wash over him, ones he, at first, couldn't quite place. You had never smiled at him like this. Was what he witnessed, what he could have had with you? He tried to ignore the painful knot in his stomach but no matter how often he told himself that he didn’t care what you were doing with your life now and who you were with, he had to admit that in reality he wanted nothing more than to turn back time to tell you he felt the same for you. It finally dawned on him that he had been blind about his feelings for you the entire time.

Why did he only realize it now? Only Archons knew.

He had learned the hard way that academic success wasn’t everything that was desirable in life. A realization that unfortunately came too late - you had already found happiness in someone else.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments and asks about Genshin or my fics are always appreciated <3

Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

TAGLIST

@irethepotato @euphierosyne @x-zho @stygianoir @polalcee

#🍁 dust writes #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #ayato x reader #kaeya x reader #xiao x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin angst #genshin hurt #genshin x female reader #genshin gn reader #genshin drabbles #genshin x you #kamisato ayato #kaeya alberich #tighnari #diluc ragnvindr #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines

[snipersfucker]

Hello :)

I saw that you were taking Mirage request and I wanted to ask if you can do Mirage x a fem reader were Mirage has a crush on the reader and has the habit of holding her like she is a cat and also maybe a confession? :D *the picture is a example XD*

this is so cute oh my

Mirage was a good friend.

Ever since Noah introduced him to you, he's been nothing but kind. Always finding time to talk to you and see you, even though he had his Autobot duties, always making sure you were either laughing or smiling, never allowing you to feel down when you were around him.

It's always been like that. And the idea that these little, innocent touches of his metal skin on yours, his optics that stayed on your face just a bit longer than anybody else's, the sweet, teasing nicknames he'd use when talking to you, would be anything other than Mirage being a good, caring friend has never really crossed your mind.

A robot fancying a human? That sounded absolutely insane.

But not to him. Oh, not once has he thought of his feelings towards you as not possible, strange, inappropriate. He'd rather describe anyone not being completely head-over-heels for you as such. It was just so easy for him to fall for you, it came naturally.

At the same time, as much as he'd love to just be around you all the time, hold you like the most precious treasure that you were, and call you his, he'd rather fight Scourge again than risk ruining your friendship because you didn't reciprocate his crush. And as self-confident as he might sound, he was quite unsure of whether you felt the same or was just being friendly.

So he didn't tell you anything. He stayed silent, bottling everything up, just trying to enjoy his moments with you, occasionally allowing himself to do something more, to get a bit closer to you than he normally would. Something that'd be more intimate than just sitting next to you, something that'd let him actually feel you.

And, God, he felt bad. He did feel bad for his touches not being completely innocent, even though he couldn't even imagine disrespecting you by crossing any of your boundaries. He just needed something more.

So there he was, standing in front of you, his servos on his hips as he looked down at you with his signature smirk.

"You seen these muscles?" he asked nonchalantly as if he wasn't going to flex his strength just now, lazily motioning to his upper half with a digit, "I could lift seven trucks with one hand," he added, his tone not changing its colour.

He might've been exaggerating but it was for comedic purposes only so he could do that.

When you asked him how many pounds he'd be able to lift, you weren't exactly expecting an honest answer. Mirage both liked to act all tough and strong, but you also knew that he's never really checked how much weight he could actually pick up. So the conversation just turned into a playful banter as per usual.

"I weight eight trucks," you said with a straight face. These words left your mouth not because you were trying to sound like an insecure attention-seeker, but because you wanted to tease him. And it was best done by doubting his abilities and deflating his huge ego. "Don't think you can handle that."

It was childish and you were well aware of it but you enjoyed it too much to stop. It's always been like that and you hoped it'd never be any different.

"Oh, you should see the things I've handled..." he trailed off, the look on his face indicating that the stuff he was referring to was at least impressive. He knew you weren't serious, and you were aware of his actual strength.

His tone was funny. As if he was trying to appear at least a bit humble but failing tremendously. With his chin higher, optical ridges slightly raised, a confident smile on his face plate, he looked like a typical show-off, almost typical Mirage.

The sight made you snicker quietly under your nose.

You didn't know the direction the conversation was going in but he did. He knew what he wanted to do and he knew it was one of the rare occasions in which he was be able to allow himself to do something more, just like he'd craved for a long time.

His reaction to your small laugh was immediate. Even though you weren't making fun of him, he could pretend that it offended him. That you provoked him to prove you otherwise, that he could, in fact, lift you up with ease. So he lowered himself just enough for his servos to meet your body, wrapped them gently around your waist and picked you up. Just like a person holding a cat.

Now that your eyes were on the level of his optics, although not close enough for your warm breath to hit his face plate, you could see his confident smirk in its full glory.

"Show-off," you muttered under your breath with a small smile, even though you knew he could hear you, his audio receptors picking up on most sounds in a very big radius.

She's so soft. She's so soft...

"Oh, yeah," he scoffed, shaking his head in amusement, not letting you see how much he wanted to just keep you between his servos forever. "It's okay, dude, you can just say that you wanted me to hold you, I won't judge," he added, his tone light, casual, projecting. He shrugged with nonchalance on his face as if it was actually the truth and he wouldn't be mad at you if you wanted him to touch you like that.

Projecting.

And he called you dude. He called you dude because sweetheart felt too intimate at the moment, too heartfelt, as if he was scared that the position you two were in and that nickname rolling off his glossa towards your ears would make you realise he likes you. And he didn't want that.

"I feel like a damn cat, M..." you muttered again, placing your hands on his in a poor attempt to push them away for your body. But your smile betrayed you.

His spark almost exploded when he felt your warm hands on his metal ones.

"I'll let you sell me if you meow right now."

He had to say something, otherwise you'd notice the hearts in his optics that appeared when he was staring at you.

His words made you giggle and shake your head in amusement. "I'd sell you without you even realising it," you decided to respond with something more sassy, a smirk and a raised eyebrow only adding to the whole effect.

"You'd get rid of that pretty face?" He tilted his helm slightly, attempting to sound offended and hurt by your statement.

You shook your head in amusement again, letting out a soft sigh.

Mirage gasped dramatically, his face again showing pretend hurt. "You don't think I'm pretty?" he asked, disbelief in his voice.

He loved every second of it.

You looked up at him, turning your lips into a thin line, as if you didn't have enough courage to tell him that you, in fact, didn't find him pretty, even though you did.

"You..." he gasped again, and if he wasn't holding you in his hands, he would put his servo on his spark just to add another dramatic effect. Then, a brilliant idea crossed his mind, "Air jail."

He turned his head to the side as much as he could to still be able to see you in his peripheral vision, straightening his arms fully so that you were as far from him as possible but still touching him.

"Mirage," you said his names as a warning. He knew you wanted him to place you on the floor again but air jail was definitely a real thing in his world.

"You deserve it," he said, his tone mean but not actually sounding like he meant it.

She's so cute. So cute...

"Mirage," you repeated his name sternly, although still playfully enough for him to know that you wanted this to continue, and his spark sped up.

"Tell me I'm pretty."

He sounded like a little toddler throwing a fit which nearly made you giggle but you decided to play along.

"...No."

So warm, so warm...

He scoffed at the word. Dramatically. Just to let you know you didn't actually hurt his feelings.

"You asked for it," he said nonchalantly, fake offence still lingering somewhere in his tone.

He felt smart. So smart for making something up just so he could hold you for a little longer, hoping you wouldn't mind if he did it playfully some time in the future again.

A few moments passed. The only thing he could focus on was your skin against his. The silence normally wouldn't bother him much but this time he felt as if you could practically hear his thoughts about yourself.

"Okay, Jesus. You're pretty," you muttered, rolling your eyes. The slight curl of your lips betrayed you again.

He was not expecting you to actually say that. His helm turned in your direction way faster than he wanted. He thanked Primus his optics didn't get as wide as they probably would've if he hadn't stopped them in time.

He knew you said it only because you wanted him to put you down on the ground. But the warmth that spread all over his metal body felt nicer than it probably should.

"Somebody's gotta crush on me..." he cooed teasingly just to cover up his own sudden nervousness.

You rolled your eyes again with a smirk.

"Floor, M."

Her voice is so soft...

He obliged. Of course he obliged, you told him exactly what he wanted to hear, you looked so pretty in his hands, you felt so warm...

You were standing on the ground again, hands on your hips as you looked up at his satisfied face plate. Cocky as always.

...And so that little thing that he came up with on spot became a part of your daily playful banters. You'd say something he didn't like, you'd end up in air jail.

You didn't mind, really, and found it rather amusing than any other thing. And this time was no different.

A few weeks after the invention of air jail, he did it again for the tenth time.

"You know I'm not putting you down till you say it, man."

Again, any other pet name sounded too intimate and it has not changed since the first time he had you in this position.

You were aware what you had to do, but it didn't stop you from being a disobeying little shit, denying him the things he wanted to hear from you.

"Airazor wouldn't date you."

He knew she wouldn't, he knew he didn't even want her to, but it was another excuse for him to hold you in his hands.

"Wrong."

"Ask her."

"I can't hear you."

"Ask her if she'd date your annoying ass."

He gasped, shaking his helm in disapproval as he looked at you with fake disappointment.

"Damn..." he pretended to feel hurt by your words, a sad expression on his face plate.

You frowned, at first with confusion at his sudden change of demeanor, and then with worry. You were worried that you actually said too much, that you said something wrong.

And noticing the look on your face, Mirage's immediately lightened up, showing him that he was joking as per usual.

"I hate you," you said as soon as you noticed he wasn't actually affected my your words.

"Nah. You love me," he said nonchalantly, shrugging, acting as if it was actually true.

"Nope." You shook your head. "I'm afraid it's one-sided,' you added with fake pity, acting like it was him who loved you without you reciprocating it.

And even though you were absolutely joking, he panicked.

Could you possibly know about his feelings? Has he been too obvious? What was it? Was he supposed to play along? Or was it the right time to tell you that he fell for you so hard he couldn't bear the thought of not being around you for more than a minute?

"I love you," he blurted out and cussed himself out in his mind for doing it in such a... disappointing way.

It wasn't him. He knew it wasn't him. Old Mirage would have never confessed his feeling like that. He would have never even feel anything so strong towards another being, the idea of confessing it too distant that it would never even cross his mind.

You changed him.

It felt strange. It felt strange to say these three words to you, he stopped feeling like himself for a few moments.

Strange but at the same time... good. He could sense the relief washing over his body as the confession left his mouth but the weight of the fear of rejection was still suffocating.

He wanted to repeat it. The three words threatened to roll off his glossa again but he swallowed them, noticing the way you reacted to them the first time.

"M..." you trailed off, too stunned to say anything else.

He wished your voice was less soft. Less careful.

"Yep," he said awkwardly, putting you down on the floor immediately. He nodded to himself. "Shouldn't have said that."

He was close to cussing himself out in front of you but he wanted to both do it in his helm and then later when you'd be gone.

Gone from his life forever...

"Nope, I actually meant it," he corrected himself, not really knowing what to say, feeling extremely out of place, acting more awkwardly than ever. "Friend."

He called you a friend just to save himself but he was fully aware it might've been too late for that.

"I love you as a friend, dude," he added again, making a finger-gun with one of his servos and pointing it at you.

It was getting worse and worse with every passing second.

He looked at you, standing without any movements, searching for any positive reaction on your face.

"Mirage..."

You used his name which meant you were most likely about to tell him that you were sorry, and that you didn't feel the same, and that you didn't want to have him in your—

"I love you."

His spark stopped.

He kept staring at you but then finally managed to get the courage to ask, just to make sure, "As a friend?" His voice was sceptical, as if he was expecting a negative answer. Which he obviously was.

You took a deep breath in and gave him a soft look.

"Not as a friend, got it," he interpreted your non-verbal response, nodding to himself a couple of times, breaking eye contact to look at the garage wall in front of him to collect himself. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, "Well, unfortunately I love you as a friend, so..." he trailed off with an unserious look on his face plate, his funny self finally making a comeback.

You scoffed, crossing your arms on your chest and shaking your head in both disbelief and amusent.

The audacity this man had...

"Alright, fine," he groaned, pretending not to like what was about to leave his mouth, "I love you as maybe just a bit more than a friend."

"Mirage..." you warned him for the third time today.

"I love you as a lot more than a friend," he corrected himself, not wanting to push it too much.

The eye contact was back.

"You're makin' me wanna giggle right now," he said randomly, as if it was a normal thing to say after confessing his undying love to a woman.

You snorted.

"The giggles are getting stronger. I can't hold 'em back," he said in a slightly warning tone, the seriousness in it making your smile grown bigger.

You both stared at each other just for mere second before you both erupted with laughter.

He did giggle.

"I love you, man," he repeated when you both calmed down after a few moments, "And I will stop calling you man. Someday. Promise," he added when he realised he didn't use sweetheart this time either.

"Yeah, of course." You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement as you both looked into each other's eyes with warmth. "I love you, too."

And he smiled, finally feeling at home.

A/N: i used an insecure attention seeker instead of a pick-me even though i hate both but i couldn't really describe it differently lmao also, emotions give me an ick so it may be a bit cringey but we roll. and it's so bad (im just saying that so yall could give me compliments) cuz i haven't written anything in a while..... and the ending made me nearly throw up.....

#mirage #mirage x my pussy #mirage x you #mirage x reader #mirage rotb #mirage transformers #transformers rotb #transformers #mirage smut #mirage fluff #mirage angst #rotb

[periludic]

Ahhhh I’m so sorry I didn’t get back to you until now I’ve been really sick 😭

But can I basically just request a OLN&F step two crushing scenario with both Tamarack and Qiu(separate), the gist of it is that MC has always been a physically affectionate person as a kid and kept up with that attitude even as a teen, but! is also very unaware of the fact that because they are so physically affectionate with Qiu/Tamarack people all the time think their dating 😭

" AFFECTION "

📌 Pairing: Step 2 Qiu/Tamarack x GN!MC (Separate)

📌 Thank you for the ask! Sorry it took a while :D and I hope you're feeling better <33

Qiu "Autumn" Lin

This jerk is so smug about it.

Whether they're 10 or 14, they love that you're clingy with them!

They're absolutely beaming as you hold onto their arm

And if you're being affectionate in public they'll look at the poor people surrounding the two of you, shit eating grin on their face as if they're saying "See this? They chose me and not you. Lol. Losers"

If there's a rumor going around that the two of you are dating, Qiu wouldn't deny it if someone asks them whether its true or not

"So are you two actually dating or..?" "Maybe, maybe not" "…So are you?" "Are we :]?"

Gosh they're insufferable

Makes those rumors worse by either flirting with you or subtly reciprocating your affection where people can witness the moment (the latter rarely happens)

If people start hating on you because of how affectionate you are towards Autumn, they'll start flirting with you even more just to spite them

And because they find your reactions adorable <3

Oh, and Qiu totally puffs out their chest proudly like a lion whenever someone mentions that you're more affectionate towards them than anybody else

Though they're overly smug and teasing about it, they absolutely melt inside. Especially if you're being affectionate in private

They love your little private moments so much. It makes them feel special that though you could've been with anyone else, you're there being affectionate with them instead

Qiu doesn't put in effort to be physically affectionate with anyone these days, but they're willing to do so if its for you

They got so used to your affection that anytime you're near each other and you don't start getting touchy with them after 2 seconds, they kinda get annoyed

Would always be searching for your warmth, it doesn't have to be much, just your pinkies intertwined or your shoulders brushing against each other is enough

You're their special someone

They'll never admit that out loud though! (Yet)

Tamarack Baumann

Flustered! Very very flustered

But is equally happy that you're being affectionate with them

Tamarack was a very affectionate kid, she hugged you anytime she was given the opportunity!! So even if she's more reserved as a teen, throwing her arms around you feels as natural as breathing

Would get a teeny tiny heart attack if you're really affectionate with her in public

But if you're doing it alone together, in the forest or either one of your houses, she'd be drowning in your affection

I think she's equally clingy in private if you have a good relationship with her to be honest

Now. Tamarack definitely always knows what's going on in town, and in school

So it doesn't take long for her to find out that people think you two are dating

As much as she denies this rumor whenever someone mentions it to her, she's absolutely giddy about the thought of the two of you being together like that

She honestly doesn't want people to stop believing in that rumor, but what would you think??

Tamarack doesn't mind, but what if you don't like the thought of you two dating? What if you grow distant because of it?? What if you're grossed out??? What if-

Okay yeah you get my point but she stresses over it a lot

So unless you confirm that you're okay with it, she'll absolutely deny it

She doesn't want you to be uncomfortable, and she doesn't want to ruin what the two of you have just because of a rumor

You're her safe place, she doesn't want to lose you

Tamarack may be doubting her place in the world but she knows she fits right in your arms perfectly

#our life now and forever #qiu lin #tamarack baumann #olnf qiu #olnf tamarack #qiu lin x mc #qiu lin x reader #tamarack baumann x mc #tamarack baumann x reader #olnf

[just-a-torn-up-masterpiece]

i never thought you'd happen to me.

masterlist | boygenius masterlist

emily prentiss x reader

this seems angsty but i promise it's not; i guess it's just a little snippet of people being human, finding comfort in another

instalment for the song 'leonard cohen' | wc: 813

Two broken souls can mend once forged together, meeting right when you need each other most, to fix what once was broken. 

Darkness bares itself to you, sinking its teeth in so deeply that it scars. And no matter how far you walk into the light, it will never leave you completely, leaving shadows in any space it can. You carry it with you like a familiar friend, choosing to feel the warmth of the light on your cheeks, keeping it at bay as much as it will let you. 

It’s a burden of being human. 

But when you’re shrouded for so long, burned enough times, it’s easy to begin to think that perhaps that’s all there is for you. Maybe settling for glimpses of shadows is what you have to do; it’s better than being dragged under at least. 

Emily let the dark times of her past follow her in her shadow, each and every tainted memory that brought her to this day. The ones that carried her through her career, through each blow that knocked her down, each piece she had to desperately put back together time and time again. The ones that made her who she is, the chief of the BAU. 

She settled for the darkness that came to her just as the sun forms a shaded patch beneath a tree. Sometimes she welcomes it, leaning into its comforting touch, as an old friend greets you with familiarity. It’s a way for her to know that there’s a constant, something she can turn to and know it will always be there. 

And then she met you. 

Like a piece falling into place, she found comfort in the sound of your laugh, the sight of your smile, the memorised contours of your face. 

She let you see the ghosts that followed her just as you did with her. 

She was nervous the first time she pulled you in for a kiss, a late night in her office over case files and small glasses of the burning tequila she hid beneath her desk. She swore you to secrecy and you laughed. 

She likes to trust her gut, whether she enjoys it or not, and she desperately ached for her heart to be right. That the touches you provide her with in passing and the way you subconsciously search for her in every room, are signs of reciprocated emotions. 

How she adores being right. She tasted the liquor on your tongue and felt the flush of your cheek beneath her palm, she smiled at the breath you let out against her lips when you parted for air and at the shy flutter of your eyes. 

You were the optimism she’s so constantly ducked away from. She was the optimism you’d always yearned to find; the one you’d always heard of, settling to never find it, even resenting the mere concept. 

Emily was the moon and you were the body of water best suited to reflect her light. Better together, shining back at one another in a way that defied the darkness around you. It was easy to focus on the beauty of your love, to let it take the lead. And whenever the shadows showed themselves at least you weren’t alone. 

Just like the nights you’ve shared so many times before, you found comfort beside each other, that solid intimacy of naked skin pressed against skin. The air was still and calm. Peace, occupied only by your breathing. Your head rested against her chest with the echoes of her heart beating a soothing rhythm whilst her hand stroked through your hair. 

You could tell she wanted to say something. It's a perk of knowing somebody so truly and deeply; recognising the hitch of a breath, knowing that it signified words that begged to be set free. She’d watched the stars out of the window deeply in thought, a constant smile making her cheeks begin to ache.

“I have something cheesy to say,” she sighed, you could hear the embarrassed grin in her voice. 

“I think I’m sleepy enough to stomach it,” you returned, she felt your lips twitch amusedly against her collarbone. 

“You have ignited something within me that I never thought possible,” she muttered with her words falling onto the top of your head. “It makes me feel weightless and free, as though nothing can touch me.”

She couldn’t imagine speaking words more true. In fact, she couldn’t imagine any type of happy life without you. No person or thing could ever take that place next to her; the spot reserved for you, that blossoming garden never short on sunlight. 

“What’s that?” you asked, sitting up to meet her eyes with yours, hazel filled with adoration. Her gaze was honest and just like that first night you let her hold your cheek, leaning into the touch that felt like home. 

“Hope.” 

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader

[suuuupernovaaa]

säwäsul

säwäsul [sæ.ˈwæ.sul] n. a competition

Request from @pwallettes : I would like to see something with Neteyam and Lo'ak with a na'vi reader where they are childhood best friends. She has always had a crush on Neteyam and now he seems to reciprocate as well and this relationship is blessed by Neytiri and Jake. But then Lo'ak confesses his feelings too and she is confused about how she feels. I don't see them as enemies, but just not knowing how they're going to handle the situation.

(Adult) Neteyam and (Adult) Lo'ak both have their eyes on the same girl - and try to work through it without killing each other.

2,160 words

For a very long, very tense moment, the two brothers stared at each other. Though they had experienced conflict with each other their entire lives, that was just brotherly competition and natural fighting.

This was something else entirely. This was something that could ruin their family, their relationship with each other, and that wasn't something either of them was willing to do.

"How long have you felt this way?" Neteyam asked finally, rubbing his temples with his fingers. Of all the idiotic things Lo'ak could have confessed to him, he certainly hadn't been expecting this.

"A long time... but I knew how she felt about you, so I tried to get over it. But, when mom and dad gave their blessing, I just, I didn't want to go forever without saying something." Lo'ak spread his arms out, as if to symbolize his innocence, and Neteyam didn't know whether to strangle him or give him a hug.

"What the hell are we supposed to do?" Neteyam asked.

Lo'ak was silent. Clearly, he hadn't given this much thought beyond confessing to his brother. He had told himself that if Neteyam was really angry and upset, he would let it go forever - but he really wasn't sure he could do that.

"You should tell her," Neteyam said. "She should know, she deserves to know."

Lo'ak's eyes widened in surprise, and he reached out to grip his brother's shoulder. "Neteyam, be serious. She will not choose me. She has already told you how she feels."

Neteyam sighed. "She has told me she feels deeply for me, and would consider being my mate, but that is all. I think I... I think I kept her waiting too long. I have always known how she felt."

"Why?" the younger Sully asked. In fact, the whole family wanted to know what had made Neteyam change his mind and begin to pursue Y/N after all this years. After all, it was no secret how she'd always felt about him.

Neteyam couldn't answer.

"She should know how you feel. Before she decides what she wants," Neteyam said again, patting his brother on the back. "We have to respect her decision - we can't make her feel guilty for it."

Lo'ak nodded, but knowing Y/N, that would be an impossible task.

--

"You are a fine woman, Y/N, and I would be honored to call you mine," Neteyam had told me a few days ago, but something in his voice, in his stance... I had dreamed of Neteyam saying this to me for years, but in my dreams, it had been more passionate, a deep confession of love.

The way he said it, it felt more like an obligation, like an agreement he was entering into.

I knew Neteyam cared deeply about me, as I cared for him, but I couldn't tell if he loved me, and I had been too scared to ask.

Then again - did a match with the future Olo'eyktan need to be a love match? Could it not be enough to simply care about each other, and live a happy life?

These were the thoughts consuming my mind as I return from a long ride with my ikran. I had hoped it would clear my mind, but it didn't seem like that was going to happen.

I needed to talk to someone. It should have been Neteyam, but I was almost nervous to ask how he really felt. Was I simply a good match, approved by his parents, or was I the woman he desperately wanted to be with?

"Y/N!" a voice called from the forest, and I turned, searching for its owner. Moments later, Lo'ak emerged, running over with a smile on his face.

"Lo'ak! What are you doing?"

"Looking for you," he replied breathlessly when he reached me. "What are you doing?" He reached up, tucking my hair behind my ear; it was always a little wild and windblown after a ride, even if it was in braids.

"Riding. What do you need?"

I noticed then how nervous Lo'ak looked. His smile wasn't reaching his eyes, and he was fidgeting in a way that I'd never really seen him do before. Of all the Sully children - and only one of them remains a child - Lo'ak was certainly the most confident and boisterous of the bunch. He was acting out of character.

"Are you okay?" I asked, reaching out to grab his arm just above his elbow. With his other hand, he reached over and covered mine.

"I have to tell you something and, and you should know, I already told Neteyam."

I frowned. "Okay..."

"I'm just going to say it, okay?" Lo'ak said, his chest heaving up and down with sporadic breaths.

"Please, do," I replied, growing very anxious with his behavior. His hand was gripping mine so tightly.

"I am in love with you, Y/N. I see you. I have loved you for, well, a long time. A really long time but I, just, I always knew how you felt about Neteyam, so I didn't say anything but now, now that it might, now that I could lose my chance I just wanted to tell you how I felt. Before, well, just so you could know."

My mouth fell open and my eyes were as wide as they had ever been. My mind was racing, but somehow blank at the same time.

I could not form a coherent thought, or a single word. Lo'ak filled the space with more talking.

"I told Neteyam, and he said you deserved to know, too, because it's your future and you should get to decide. And my brother, I love my brother, Y/N. He would be a fine mate for you, if you choose him. But I would be too, Yawne." Beloved.

No one had ever called me that.

My brain tried to conjure up the image of Neteyam calling me that, and it couldn't. I didn't think he ever would.

"I don't want you to feel guilty if you choose him, and he doesn't want you to feel guilty if you don't. Or, you don't have to choose either of us. But, we won't be mad at you, Y/N. I don't think I could ever be mad at you."

Lo'ak stepped forward, and I stood still as he wrapped his arms around me.

Images of our childhood together played in my mind. Had I been so focused on the eldest brother, that I had missed something right in front of my eyes? Lo'ak had always been there for me, always cheered me on, always made me laugh when I was down, and it seemed obvious now.

He had been showing me how he felt for so long, while I pined for someone who only wanted me for an approved match out of obligation to his people.

Neteyam was a good man, and he would make a good Olo'eyktan, and I did not regret telling him how I felt... but something felt different about it now.

It wasn't that Lo'ak's confession made me fall out of love, but it made me realize I wasn't really in love in the first place; I was just infatuated with who I thought Neteyam could be for me.

Tears filled my eyes and I leaned into Lo'ak's embrace, feeling confused and hurt and a little relieved. I needed time to think about everything, to decide if I could really choose between two brothers without hating myself forever, to make sure Lo'ak's affections were true.

"I need time to think," I whispered, and Lo'ak squeezed me tightly.

"I know. I'll be waiting."

--

What I needed, was to talk to Neteyam. I took the evening to try to sleep on it, but that was almost impossible. I knew I couldn't talk to my mother or siblings about it - they would tell me I would be a fool not to choose the eldest son of Taruk Makto, but I didn't think that was entirely true.

Very early the next morning, I found Neteyam setting off for a hunt, and pulled him aside.

"We must talk," I said.

"Yeah, probably," he replied with a half smile that I couldn't return.

"I spoke to your brother yesterday."

"I know," he said, and there wasn't much concern in his voice, or his face.

I squinted at him, turning my head to the side. "Does the idea of Lo'ak expressing his affections to me make you jealous at all?"

Neteyam looked taken aback by my question. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again.

"I have loved you for many years, Neteyam. There were times when I thought I would not be able to live, if you chose another woman. The day your parents approved our pairing, I thought it would be the greatest of my life." Once again, tears began to fill my eyes as I spoke, though I tried to stop them.

"It wasn't, though?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I don't think you love me, Neteyam. Not like that. I think you like me, and I do think we would be very happy together... but do you not want to, to feel that you would die without your mate? To be with someone who is on your mind day and night, who drives you mad and makes you angry and, and happier than you could imagine?"

Neteyam stared at me for a moment, while I took in deep breaths, trying very hard not to embarrass myself with more tears.

"Do we not both deserve that?" he finally said. "You are my best friend, Y/N. I would never hold you back from a love like that."

I bit my lip and look down. "Do you think he...?"

"Yes," Neteyam answered without hesitation. "He does."

--

Lo'ak was gone on the hunt before I could find him, and so I had to wait all day to speak with him. It was the longest, most agonizing day of my entire life.

When he returned, I was by the fires at the center of our home, helping prepare the evening meal with many of the other men and women of our tribe.

"Y/N!" he greeted me excitedly, a smile on his face, and I jumped up from my seat and grabbed him by the hand.

"Come," I said, pulling him away, just out of the reach of our clan's eyes and ears, to the darkness of the forest.

Here, alone, before we spoke, I took a moment to truly admire Lo'ak. I still held his hands in mine, and lifted it before my eyes, examining the five fingers there. Above his eyes, the small patches of hair that set him apart, got my attention next, and I ran my finger over them and tired not to smile too wide.

He looked just like his father, as he got older, and he acted like him, too.

That meant he was fierce, and loyal, and protective, and very impulsive at times.

How had I missed this man? How could I have allowed myself to be blinded to him?

"I must apologize, Lo'ak," I said finally, my voice very quiet. "I wasted so much time, thinking I was in love with Neteyam, and that he could be in love with me... but that match is not right, for either of us."

He grasped both my hands with his. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"But I do. I made you to suffer. That's not something I would ever want. I do love you, Lo'ak. I can't, I can't believe I didn't realize it until yesterday. I love you in a way that I could never love anyone else, in a way I have never loved anyone else. I want you to know that. Tell me you believe me."

He licked his lips, and smiled widely at me. "I believe you." His fingers underneath my chin tilted my face up, so that I would look him boldly in the eyes. "I knew you would find your way to me. I knew you would be mine."

The confidence was so attractive, and I was amazed that I would have spent my life being only half-loved when Lo'ak was ready to love me so deeply, and to be loved in return.

His lips brushed against mine, tentatively at first, and then fiercely and passionately, in a way that lit me on fire for him. When we pulled apart, I was crying, and Lo'ak's blissful look turned to concern instantly.

"What is it, Yawne?"

I shook my head as he held me, and wiped away the tears.

"I feel... fortunate," I replied truthfully. "I feel grateful for you."

He kissed beneath each of my eyes, and then my nose, and then held me to his chest.

"I am the fortunate one."

We would argue about who was more fortunate later - and for the rest of our lives.

#lo'ak #neteyam #lo'ak x reader #neteyam x reader #avatar 2

[cuffmeinblack]

i hope you're still taking requests if not ignore this <3 but if you are, then may i request a ominis x reader x sebastian? okay so basically its ominis going up to sebastian and asking him to describe the reader, because he wants to know about his crush. but as sebastian describes the reader, ominis realizes that seb also has a crush on the reader. of course as his friend, ominis encourages seb to act on his feelings even if it means his own heart breaking. a lil angst, jk alot. thank youuu! have a nice rest of your day/night <3

You're welcome

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader

Tags: fluff | love rivalry

1k words

A/n: Sorry this took ages to answer! If you know my area of interest 😏 you'll know how this is going to end. But here we go.

Ominis had heard descriptions of his new friend, though they didn't mean much to him. The superficial details were often talked of favourably, except the faded scar that ran down her cheek. He'd asked her about that particular detail and she had told him her story and Ominis had listened, enraptured, and found similarities in the pain of their childhoods. He enjoyed talking to her, his previous misgivings all but forgotten—truth be told, he had immediately disliked her due to Sebastian's inexplicable interest, but now he thought he understood.

Ominis wanted to know more about her and often wondered how other people saw her, particularly his best friend. He wondered if he would approve of Ominis' affections for the girl, and decided to broach the subject one quiet evening in the Slytherin common room whilst she was out of the castle on some adventurous errand.

"Can I ask you something, Sebastian?" Ominis asked in a low voice, trying not to draw the interest of any nearby students.

"Of course," Sebastian replied.

"Our new fifth year friend…what does she look like? Or rather, how do you see her?"

"Oh…hmmm," Sebastian hummed, considering the question.

Ominis realised it was a hard question to answer, but he was curious.

"I mostly notice her eyes, I suppose. They draw you in—she can look so intense but there's a glint in her eyes I saw the first day we met, when I knew she was…when I knew we'd be friends," Sebastian said, his sentence tapering off weakly toward the end.

Ominis nodded, his throat dry and heart quickening. He hadn't anticipated this—the way Sebastian talked, he thought he knew that wistful tone. He liked her. A lot.

"Anything else?" Ominis asked, curious still, wanting to test his new assumption.

"Her smile. It's sort of crooked, but it lights up her face. She only smiles like that when she really means it. And she has these…dimples…like little indentations in her cheeks," Sebastian carried on in barely a whisper, then cleared his throat suddenly. "I suppose that's it."

Ominis' stomach twisted. If he touched Sebastian's skin he was sure it would be burning. He knew his friend, and whilst he was an insufferable flirt, he didn't talk about any other girl like this. He might make a throwaway comment such as "she's nice to look at", but the poetic way he described their mutual friend pointed to something else. Sebastian had studied her, noticed all these details that he'd found endearing, and it made Ominis' heart ache.

Ominis would do anything for his best friend, and he wondered if this was another of those things. Could he bury his own feelings to allow Sebastian to explore his?

"Thank you for telling me," Ominis said.

"You're welcome."

-

Over the coming days, Ominis listened to the interactions between his friends with greater interest, armed with this new information, it now seemed obvious to him that Sebastian was nursing a deep affection for the girl. Whether or not she reciprocated his feelings, Ominis couldn't tell. She was easygoing and friendly to everyone, and her tie to Sebastian could be entirely platonic. Ominis supposed the only way to find out was to ask her.

It was hard to get her alone without Sebastian, the two seemed to be joined at the hip, even more since Ominis' conversation with Sebastian about her—whether this was coincidence or not, he couldn't say. Ominis managed to corner her one day before lessons began, Sebastian had run back to the dormitory to retrieve his forgotten textbook.

"What did you want to talk to me about, Ominis?" she asked, leading his arm to a quiet corner of the hallway. Her hand seemed to burn through his robes and ignite his skin, sending a prickling feeling through his body.

"I was wondering, if there's anyone that you…like. Anyone you're interested in?" Ominis asked awkwardly. Not his most eloquently posed question.

"Oh. I…maybe," she said evasively, her hand still lingering on his arm.

Ominis nodded. "Sebastian?"

The silence that greeted the question seemed to stretch on forever, until it ended abruptly with the intrusion of Sebastian who had returned, panting heavily. The hand on Ominis' arm had withdrawn suddenly with his arrival.

Ominis struggled to concentrate after that. She hadn't been able to answer his question, but to him it already seemed answered. She had admitted she had an interest in someone, and realistically who else could it be? Who else had held her attention since the day of her arrival at Hogwarts? A dejected acceptance fell over him, and he vowed to do his best to ensure their happiness—what kind of friend would he be otherwise?

Pulling Sebastian aside that evening, he prepared himself for what he had to say. He'd turned the words over in his mind, though actually forming them would prove difficult.

"...I asked her if she was interested in anyone, she didn't exactly say but it seems clear that it's you. I know you like her, Sebastian, it was obvious when you told me about how you see her," Ominis forced the words out.

"Ominis…you idiot," Sebastian said.

Ominis' mouth dropped open at the unexpected insult, though Sebastian's tone was more amused and exasperated than anything malicious.

"I do like her. And I know you do, ever since you asked me about her. She told me about your conversation earlier," Sebastian said.

Ominis felt his cheeks burning from embarrassment as Sebastian pressed on.

"She likes you, Ominis. It's obvious to anyone with half a brain cell around here. She doesn't open up to anyone like she does with you. So…if you don't ask her out I'll hex you into next week."

Ominis let out a loud laugh, releasing the tension he'd built up as Sebastian had been speaking. His head was swimming as he processed the information. He'd been wrong, so wrong. He felt a wide smile grow on his face as he imagined all the possibilities with her, stretching out before him.

"Thanks, Sebastian," Ominis said.

"You're welcome. Go get her."

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt drabble #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt imagine #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow fanfiction